Time Will Tell
by windswept butterfly
Summary: **COMPLETED** Carter and Abby. I've taken poetic lisence with the Season 9 finale plot...loved the finale, but I'm'a write it how *I* think it should have happened.
1. Ten Minutes

Title: Time Will Tell  
  
Author: Aimee  
  
Disclaimer: As much as it pains me, I really have no claim of ownership whatsoever when it comes to Carter and Abby…they belong to Warner Brothers, NBC, Michael Crichton, et al. But if I can't own them, I like to think they belong solely to Jack Orman…he'll take good of them in my absence…  
  
Spoilers: Abso-posi-tivi-lutely. For *everything*. This is based on spoilers about the Season 9 finale…  
  
Notes: Carter's POV, for this chapter at least. Basically, if you've seen all of Season 9 so far and you're spoiled for the finale, you should be able to figure out what's going on here. I'm planning on turning this into a small chapter fic, so please please please let me know what you think - encouragement makes the new stuff appear faster J Therefore, please R/R…  
  
Merci beaucoup to Kate, my lovely and wonderful Beta. And to Julie and Misty for inspiring me to write this by overwhelming me with fuzzy scenarios about the season's end. Hehe. You guys rock my socks off. Oh, yeah, and to Dave Matthews for writing the song "Two Step" so that I could listen to on repeat over and over whilst I wrote this first chapter…  
  
So, with no further ado…  
  
"Time Will Tell"  
___________________________________________________  
Ten minutes left.  
  
In ten minutes, I'm leaving her. And she knows it. She's sitting on the edge of our bed, one leg pulled beneath her, watching me as I pack. I can feel her eyes upon me and it's almost as though I can literally hear her thinking too hard, trying desperately to find the words that will convince me to stay.  
  
She's afraid. To be completely honest, so am I. When I let myself concentrate on what I'm about to do, my stomach gets tied in knots. I'm not sure I can actually do this.  
But I have to. It's important to me, and she knows it. She understands why I'm leaving, but that doesn't calm her fears. Or mine.  
  
I told her several days ago that it would be fine. I'll only be gone two weeks, and I'll be back in that bed with her before she's even realized I was gone. And I've repeated that promise to her hundreds of times since then. Problem is, I've never been good at lying - especially not to her. She saw right through me, saw the truth in my eyes. She knows I'm just as scared as she is. No matter how important this is to me, it doesn't change the fact that I'm willfully launching myself into a world of danger and death.  
  
What if I'm wrong? What if, in reality, I never make it back to her? Anything can happen in a war-torn country such as Congo. Looking over at her on our bed again, I suddenly wonder how I talked myself into this. How could I risk losing forever what I waited so long to experience? Abby. My Abby.   
  
Damn my philanthropic nature.  
  
"How will I know?" Her words, almost a whisper, slice through the silence and bring me out of my thoughts.  
  
I don't want to speak. I just want to stare at her - at the beauty that I'm blessed to call my own. But her eyes are begging for a response. She needs to talk. She needs to be comforted while she still has me here. "Know what?," I venture slowly, not sure of where this is going. It's one of the things I desperately love and yet utterly hate about her - she's amazingly vague.  
  
"How will I know that you're safe?" Ah, I see now. "Fourteen days…" she continues with slight hesitation, "…I don't know if I can stand it, walking around everyday wondering where you are and if you're alright."  
  
I give her my trademark smirk - at least that's what she calls it. "Don't worry…" But she gives me her trademark eyebrow raise and eye roll, and I realize that that approach won't work this time. So I go to her. Slowly, I walk to the bed where she sits and take her hand, pulling her up so that she's standing in front of me. I take her other hand so that we're connected in a complete circuit, and I'm overwhelmed with emotion as I look deep into her eyes. This woman is everything to me. And I'm killing her. I could be killing myself, literally, with the path that I've chosen to walk down next. But I have to be brave - for her.  
  
"I'll find a way," I whisper, still staring into her eyes. She smiles, but it's a smile that I know is still disbelieving. "C'mon, I know it's a rural area but I'm sure they have some way in which they communicate with the outside world. I'll make it happen. I promise."  
  
She just bites her lip and nods. I know there's nothing I can say to make it better. Unless I say I'm not leaving. But I am.  
  
Five minutes left.  
  
I lean in and kiss her on the forehead, pausing there to smell her soft blonde hair. And I can tell she's smelling my shirt. We're making a memory, forever implanting the scent of one another into our minds. With great hesitation, I pull back and smile at her. "Can you pour me some coffee for the road?" She smiles back, so radiant, and kisses me quickly before walking toward the kitchen. I throw a few last minute objects into my bags, then move to my dresser drawer and remove what I've been hiding. I place it on the bedside table and sigh. A little going away present. If things go horribly wrong, it'll be something to remember me by. But I don't want to think like that right now.  
  
I quickly grab my bags and head into the living room, desperate to spend these last few minutes as close to her as possible. I set my bags by the door and turn to find her watching me again, traveling coffee mug in hand. She comes to me eagerly, placing the mug on the table by the door, and positions her head in it's usual home underneath my chin. I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer, and she follows by letting her arms encircle my waist.  
  
"I wish I could go with you" she murmurs suddenly.  
  
I sigh. "Abby…" We've had this talk already. Numerous times.  
  
"I mean, to the airport." Oh. Right. "This way makes us have to separate 4 hours before we would if I just went with you."  
  
I kiss the top of her head. Two minutes left. Can I actually do this?  
  
"You have to work," I say, trying to let her know that I understand. And I do.  
  
She sighs heavily and pulls away to look at me, her arms still around my waist. "I can't believe Romano wouldn't let me have the day off. I know we're short of nurses but…"  
  
I've put my finger to her lips, quieting her. "I don't want to talk about Romano. You have to work. We can't change that. Let's make the most of right now."  
  
As if on cue, the sound of a car horn is heard through the open window. Perfect timing. Really.  
  
She has her eyes closed now, dreading this moment. "Taxi's here," she whispers. I'm leaving the Jeep with her. It's not like it makes sense to let it sit at the airport for two weeks. But it's also for her comfort. I know driving around in my car everyday will make her feel closer to me. And I'll be smiling in Africa when I picture her behind the wheel, blaring The Pixies on my stereo. It works both ways.   
  
Time's up. My last chance to bail out of this mission. But I know I won't. So I pull her close to me again, burying her head back into my chest, and squeeze my arms around her until I fear I might break her. But she's holding me just as tight. I pull away slightly and immediately move to kiss her. She doesn't hesitate to follow my lead. And as I vanish into her kiss, I feel the tears that are slowly and desperately falling from her eyes.  
  
If I'm going to leave, I have to do it now. I back away and grab my bags, glancing up to see her staring at her feet. She's never been very willing to let me see her cry. I have the door open now, one bag over my shoulder with the other two in one hand and the coffee mug in the other.  
  
"Abby…" But she doesn't break the concentration that she's placed upon her bare feet. "Look at me…"  
  
And she does. Biting her lip again in that way that makes me want to hold her forever.  
  
The taxi makes itself known again, blaring that horn at yet another inconvenient moment.   
  
I glance toward the window and then back at her. She knows this is it. I have to say goodbye. It's now or never.   
  
"I love you. So much more than you'll ever know or believe. No matter what happens in the next two weeks, you can't ever forget that, okay? I love you."  
  
She smiles through her now unrelenting tears and nods. "I love you, too. Please be careful. I mean it. I'll miss you too much." And I know she's talking about forever, not just the next two weeks. I'll be careful. I will. I'll miss her just as badly if I wake up in eternity without her. But we can't dwell on the danger of the situation right now. I want to leave her with a smile.  
  
So I give her that trademark smirk she loves one more time, and wink at her. "I'll be right back." And suddenly I'm walking away from her. Let's hope it's not forever. 


	2. Eight Hours

Author Notes: We're on Abby's POV this time. I think each chapter will be alternating from now on…Okay, R/R unless you want me to hunt you down and strangle you in your sleep…the usual threat…yadda yadda yadda…

Lurve and hugz to m'Beta, Kate, and to Jen because…well, ya know why ::wooks:: Lurve ya!

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Eight hours since he left.

As I slide the key into the door of my apartment, I dread being there without him. It's not that I don't know how to get through a day - or even several days - without him. It's just that this is the first of at least fourteen days to come. The last time I remember caring so much about a block of fourteen days was almost a year ago - exactly a year ago, five days from tomorrow, actually - and those fourteen days were days spent with him. Constantly with him. Not without him. Not worrying about him. Not like now.

I enter the apartment and drop my keys on the table beside me, surveying the scene. It looks exactly as I left it. Exactly as he left it. Somehow I expected it to look different without him here. Oh well.

I drop my purse on the couch and move through the these empty spaces. I should clean up the mess I left this morning. After he left, I couldn't stand to be here alone. So I quickly grabbed my necessities and headed for work. An hour early. What can I say, it was too quiet in here with only his goodbye reverberating in my ear. It was either get out or crawl onto the couch and cry myself into a pathetic state.

Damn him and his ability to draw me out of my anti-emotional shell.

I find my way into my - our - bedroom and I have to smile when I see the state that he left it in. His frantic packing has left me with various shirts, socks, and towels to put away in his absence. Or maybe I'll leave it how it is, at least for tonight. It's comforting. And maybe I'll just wear that black T-shirt of his to bed.

Bed. Damn I'm tired. I could definitely sleep right now. It's been a draining day, that's for sure. Grabbing the shirt I had my eye on before, I remove my scrubs and slip it over my head. Smells just like him. I'll definitely sleep well tonight.

That bed is calling my name. I'd better oblige. I move to his side of the bed and pull back the covers, choosing to sleep in his territory for the next two weeks. I always do when he's gone. As I climb onto the mattress, content to bury my face in his pillow and sleep forever, I remember suddenly to check my messages and reach across the bed to my own side. That's when I see it.

What the hell? The breath catches in my chest and I swear my heart just skipped five beats. I'm paralyzed, as my mind is overloaded with memories from just two months ago. I'd know that satin blue box anywhere. Inside that box is a platinum band with a rock the size of Gibraltar on it. The ring. A ring I wasn't sure I'd ever see again. A ring that I was never supposed to see in the first place. A ring that he had made clear he wasn't ready to give.

__

"I didn't do it because, in that moment it just felt…it didn't feel right."

Exactly. Point taken. Which brings me back to: why the hell is it on my bedside table? Curiosity gets the best of me, if only because I want to look at that rock again, and I reach for the box. There's an envelope underneath it. It has my name on it. Now, this is becoming far too interesting. I open the ring box, setting it on the bed beside me so that I can glance at it repeatedly as I read the contents of this mysterious envelope. Ripping it open, I find a card inside. Nothing fancy, just one of those cards with an overly-adorable little boy and girl holding hands. I smile. Carter's such a sucker for mushy stuff. But then, so am I when it's coming from him. Opening the card, I find a note written in his unmistakable doctor scribble.

__

Abby,

I was hoping you could hold onto this for me while I'm gone. As far as I'm concerned, it already belongs to you. I know I said it didn't feel right. I know I've never brought up the subject since then. But I want you to know that I do want to be with you. Forever. I don't know what might happen over the next two weeks, and I couldn't bear it if I left this world without you knowing my true intentions. I want to marry you. I want to call you my wife and hear you call me husband. I want us to wake up in each other's arms every morning. And I want to know that we're legally required to do so. I want to spend the rest of my life telling you that I love you, because I can never say it enough. I love you. I love you. I love you…That just sounds so inadequate, considering that what I feel for you is so much more. But there are no words for this feeling. You're ingrained on my heart. No matter what circumstances I find myself in these next fourteen days, I need you to know and believe that. Forever. Take care of the ring for me. Hopefully I can make it official one of these days. But incase fate has other plans, know that marrying you is what I wanted. You and me. Forever. And because there are no other words…

I love you,

John

As I finish reading, tears are threatening to escape from my eyes and I'm positive that I've stopped breathing. This man is incredible. I have no idea what he sees in me. But I'm damn glad that he sees it. I place the card back into the envelope and let my eyes fall again to the ring. A keepsake, more or less. The letter said he would make it official another time. If there is another time. So this is pretty much something for me to hold onto if I lose him. How incredibly…bitter sweet.

Sighing heavily, I wipe the tears from my eyes, determined not to let myself dwell on the nightmare that could very possibly be in my near future. No. He promised he would be right back. I won't lose him. I can't. I pick up the ring box and stare at that sparkling boulder set in platinum for another minute or so. Then I quickly close the case and place it back on the bedside table, along with the letter, where I originally found them. I'm sure I'll be returning frequently to both in the next two weeks. For right now, I can think of nothing better to fall asleep to. His words. His promises. His dreams. For us.

I find my way back to his side of the bed and crawl beneath the covers, taking in the scent of his pillow and letting my mind wander to him, wondering if he's thinking of me as much as I am him.

Something deep within me tells me that he is. And suddenly I feel myself drifting into the reverie of sleep and sweet dreams.


	3. One Day

AN: Back to Carter's POV. And this chapter is more of a "move the story along" sort of thing. We'll get back into the thick of it next chapter, I promise. Be patient with me. Um, no special thanks, considering I was too impatient to wait for a Beta this time. I guess props to Extreme for "More Than Words," which was on repeat in my ear as I wrote this…not that it actually has any meaning toward the chapter…whatever.  
  
======================  
  
One whole day.  
  
All I can think as I step off of the plane and into the airport at Kinshasa is that it was exactly 24 hours ago that I last saw her face. That I left her standing in our apartment. Alone.  
  
This flight lasted far longer than it was supposed to. As I make my way toward the group that has congregated, I recount in my mind the multiple times we were delayed. An extra two hours on the runway in Chicago. An hour and a half stop for fuel in Morocco. An emergency landing due to weather…somewhere in Africa…that resulted in another 4 hours of delay. So, a full twenty-four hours after leaving the apartment, I've finally set foot in Kinshasa. And we're still not to the final destination. Will this journey ever end?  
  
Joining the group, I drop my bags beside me and listen as the director of the mission gives us a run down of our next steps. He spouts something about being prepared to jump into immediate action once we hit the field, and reminding us that supplies and conditions will be incredibly lacking compared to what we're used to. I have to wonder if he's ever tried to practice medicine at County.  
  
He continues for another five minutes or so, and then tells us to meet back here in half an hour. Then, we'll make our way out to the facilities. As everyone begins to disperse, I grab my bags and move them to a set of chairs near the window. I collapse into one of the chairs and suddenly my head is resting in my hands. I'm so damn exhausted.  
  
"Long flight, huh?"  
  
I raise my head and find a vaguely familiar man standing in front of me. About my height, average build, black hair and glasses. I remember, now. He was on the plane, sitting across the aisle from me.  
  
"That's an understatement," I offer with a slight smile.  
  
"Josh Lowden," he says as he reaches out his hand to me. I give him mine in response.  
  
"John Carter. You're on the mission, then?"  
  
He sighs heavily, expressing what I feel. "Yeah. All the way from New Jersey. You?"  
  
"Chicago," I say with a nod. He raises his eyebrows at me - making me think of her - and sits down across from me.  
  
"Wow. Long way from home, aren't you?" It's a rhetorical question, but I nod thoughtfully nonetheless. He continues, and I can't decide if I necessarily want this distraction. He's a nice guy, but…I'm tired. "What's your specialty, then?"  
  
I sit back in my chair and blink, long and hard. "Emergency. Trauma. Chief Resident"  
  
This elicits another raise of the eyebrow, and my mind again flies back to the woman I left twenty-four hours ago. "Doctor, then. I'm a nurse. Tried med school for a while, but somehow I just got too comfortable in nursing. I only did it to pay for med school, at first, but…well, this doesn't interest you, I'm sure. Doctors aren't known to worry themselves over the lives of nurses, you know?"  
  
And, again, I'm thinking of her.   
  
"I don't know about other doctors, but I might just surprise you. I know more than you'd ever imagine about the life of a nurse." I have to chuckle a little when I say it, just thinking of her and how much of my life has revolved around hers lately.  
  
I miss her. And it's only been one day.  
  
I wonder what she's doing right now. Probably working, I'm sure. She said she was working overtime while I was gone, to keep busy. She worries too much. I love her for it.  
  
I'm suddenly aware of Josh calling my name, and I shake myself out of my thoughts and return my eyes to him.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?"  
  
He smiles a little and repeats himself. "I was just asking if you were married. My wife and I had our first anniversary just last month…"  
  
I bite my tongue momentarily, amazed at how easy it is to think of her at every moment of this conversation. "No," I replay finally. "Not married. Not yet, at least."  
  
He nods knowingly. "Engaged, then? Danielle and I were engaged for almost two years before we finally walked down the aisle."  
  
I pause, not knowing what to say next. Am I engaged? I have no idea. I'd like to think I am. But I'm not sure. "Something like that," is all I offer.  
  
He laughs a little at my indecision, then, "What's her name?"  
  
And I'm smiling now. I can't contain it.  
  
"Abby." I relish the way her name rolls off my tongue. Suddenly, I need to hear her respond. "Actually, I really should try to call her, so if you'll excuse me…"  
  
Josh gives me a nod of acceptance and I grab my bags again, walking off in search of a phone. Eventually, I find several pay phones on the wall beside the small café. Dropping my bags once again, I pull out my long-distance calling card and begin to strategically dial all of the numbers. I know she's working - she has to be - so we won't be able to talk for long. But I need to hear her voice. Desperately.  
  
Several minutes of number-punching later, the line is finally ringing. And before I know it, I hear Frank's voice on the other end.  
  
"Hey Frank, it's Dr. Carter. Is Abby around?" Please let her be there. Please.  
  
"Dr. Carter, hey. Yeah she's here somewhere." Thank God. "Aren't you supposed to be in Africa?"  
  
"I am, so can you please get her for me? I'm calling long distance, to say the least."  
  
Frank puts me on hold for a moment and I feel my heart beat a little faster in anticipation of her voice. And then I hear it.  
  
"Carter?"  
  
My smile is stretching from ear to ear. "Hey, baby. How are you?"  
  
I hear her sigh and I know she's smiling, too. "I'm fine, considering you're halfway around the world. How are things there?"  
  
"Good, so far. Actually we're only in Kinshasa right now, so we'll be taking a few smaller turbo-props out to the field sites within the next hour. I'm so tired of flying, I'd rather walk there than get on another plane," I scoff.  
  
"I don't blame you," she replies with laughter in her voice. Then, "You'll call me when you get to the site? So I know you made it okay?"  
  
"I will." I hate her worrying so much. So I change the subject. "They tell me Luka's got the place running like clockwork."  
  
I hear her release a laugh on the other end, and I wish I could see her smile. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. You two play nice, okay? There's enough danger out there on its own, I don't need to hear about you and Luka killing one another."  
  
"I promise," I say with a smile. A smile that isn't fading as long as her voice is in my ear. "No fighting with the European ex-boyfriend. I'll be good."  
  
More laughter. God, I miss her. I want to ask her if she found the ring, but I decide to let it be something she brings up. If she wants to.   
  
We're both silent for a minute or two, listening to each other breathe.  
  
"I'm really proud of you," she almost whispers. "I don't want you to think that I'm not, just because I fought you so hard about going. I'm so proud of you right now."  
  
I close my eyes and think back on all the arguments we had over my coming here. I hope they were worth it. I hope this trip ends up being worth it. But she's proud of me, nonetheless. And I can't think of anything to say in response.  
  
"I love you, Abby." That'll have to do. It's the only thought in my head right now.  
  
I can practically hear her smile, but then I recognize the voice of Haleh in the background. "Um, I have to get back to work. And you need to catch that plane. Anything you needed?"  
  
"Just wanted to hear your voice," is my raspy reply. I don't want this conversation to end.  
  
But it does. And she sighs again.  
  
"I love you, too. Call me when you get there."  
  
And she's gone.  
  
I hang up the phone and grab my bags again, walking back toward the gate where the group has began to assemble again. And the next thing I know, we're walking out on the runway and boarding three small planes, five to a group.  
  
Taking my seat inside, I look out the window and anticipate what awaits me next. A makeshift hospital in the middle of a war zone. With Luka Kovac.  
  
And I sigh.  
  
Here goes nothing. 


	4. Fiftyseven Seconds

AN: PUH-lease R/R - this chapter took a lot out of me, considering recent spoilers and the Kleenex I'm sure I'll be carrying with me 24/7 for the rest of the season. But I had this part planned out all along. So I ran with it. *sigh* Mad props to Kate for being a rockin', sockin' Beta…and to SheDaisy, for giving me my song of inspiration for this chapter…who's lyrics will appear at the end…and this story is now based incredibly *loosely* on spoilers, as I highly doubt Orman and Wells will take the Africa plotline in the direction that I plan on taking it…so…yeah. This chapter has references to "The Advocate" and "Tell Me Where It Hurts" and some others, too, I believe…so…there…

Back to Abby's POV…

_________________________________________________

Fifty-seven seconds. That's ten seconds longer than last time.

Maybe my next attempt will result in a full minute. A person has to wonder how long someone can actually stare straight ahead without blinking. And I'm doing pretty good, if I say so myself.

Having a very worthy opponent to stare at helps, as well.

I reach across the table, the first time I've moved a muscle in at least 15 minutes, and grab the object of my attention. My hand wraps around it tightly, and I think I'm going to hold it forever.

I can't put it down.

Not now.

It's all I have left.

And I've been concentrating on it for almost three hours.

Sitting right here, in this incredibly uncomfortable chair in my kitchen. Staring at this worthy adversary.

It looks the same as it has looked every other time I've held it in my hands.

But this time, something's different.

This time, I can't breathe.

I can hardly form a coherent thought.

Except for one.

The only thought that has continuously propelled through my mind over the past eleven hours.

He's gone.

Three days ago, I was lying in our bed dreaming of the future.

And that ring.

But then it happened.

I remember it as if it were two seconds ago.

I walked out of a trauma to find Susan, Kerry, Chuny, Haleh, Malik, and several others crowded around the television at the admit desk.

And when I asked what they found so interesting, I was met with looks of fear and despair.

Susan, biting her lip. I knew it was bad. I only bite _my_ lip when it's bad. Why would she be any different?

Then, my attention turned to the television screen, I felt my head begin to spin.

A reporter, wearing a somber face, sat behind the CNN desk. I didn't process his words.

I only read the caption on the bottom of the screen.

__

"Turbo-prop carrying at least 5 medical missionaries goes down outside of Kinshasa"

And my heart stopped.

No.

It wasn't his.

He flew out three days ago. I talked to him that day.

Immediately, I looked to Susan. She was staring at me sympathetically.

I hated her for it.

My ears catch the reporter's voice and I turn back to watch, silently believing - _knowing_ - it wasn't him.

__

"The accident, which occurred over 72 hours ago, was apparently caused by a mechanical failure, and not interference by the warring rebels, as was first suspected."

Oh God. 72 hours ago. It couldn't be him.

Please.

__

"For anyone who's just joining us, a small plane carrying at least 5 passengers and 1 pilot was reported lost outside of the Congolese town of Kinshasa on Monday. The difficulty of communication to that region has delayed our receiving this information, but we can now say with assurance that the flight was transporting medical missionaries, three of whom were American, to their outposts in the rural territories. Sadly, no one survived. We'll have more on this breaking news as we get it, but, for now, no names have been released."

My breath had ceased. I couldn't think. Couldn't move.

Just like now, actually.

Susan grabbed my hand and whispered, _"I'm so sorry, Abby."_

But I pulled away, raising my eyebrows at her.

__

"Why? It wasn't him. They would have called and told me if it was him. He's fine"

I was trying to convince myself. Not her. I knew she was right.

__

"Abby…" she started again, _"they haven't contacted any family yet. The mission is still trying to sort out who it is that needs to be contacted. They don't know who was on which plane. And everyone is so scattered at different areas now, they're trying frantically to make sense of it all. But…"_

And I knew.

There were only three planes. John told me that much.

And he told me before he even left that he was one of only a few Americans on the mission.

I couldn't believe this was happening to me.

Susan must have seen the utter realization take over my face, because she quickly pulled me into the lounge.

He promised he would call me when he got to the site.

So I wouldn't worry.

That was three days ago.

He's gone.

And she tells me that she's sorry.

Again.

She tells me I should go home.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't come back here.

Alone.

Susan took me to Doc's, upon my request. I wanted to sit in our booth.

To try and process what had just happened.

And we sat there for almost four hours.

We didn't speak. Just sat. She's a great friend. She doesn't push me to talk.

Doesn't tell me that it will be okay.

Because she knows it won't.

And, four hours after we sat down in that greasy spoon that I hold so dear, she demanded that we get some air.

So we walked. And ended up by the river. Sitting on the bench.

All I wanted to do was think of him.

And forget him.

Both, at the same time.

Another three hours by the river.

I told her about the ring.

She already knew. How typical of Carter. We always go to Susan first, as if we can do nothing without her approval. It's ironic, really.

And as I began to open up, I found myself telling her about the importance of that bench.

But then the tears came. And she simply wrapped her arms around me and reassured me that she was there.

Even if he wasn't. And never would be again.

I spent the following hour wandering the streets alone. Afraid to come back here.

Unable to comprehend what I should do next.

And my mind immediately ran for my comfort zone.

So, I've been sitting here for three hours. Staring at my comfort zone.

My old friend.

Nice to see you again, Jose.

Can't say you've been missed.

But you always come back to me.

Old faithful.

Three hours of staring and I haven't accomplished anything more than unscrewing the cap and placing it on the counter.

I want it so badly.

No.

I want _him_ so badly.

But he's not here. He won't ever be here.

Jose is here instead. I can always count on him.

Three hours of considering my actions. It's time to act.

I take the glass in front of me and let the brown liquid flow into it's empty depths. That's better.

Now we're getting somewhere. Take a sip, and I'm on my way to a painless evening.

But just a few months ago, I promised myself this wouldn't happen again. Ever.

And, what's more, I promised him.

I was determined to change. To grow. Just like he said that fateful night.

The night I should have received the ring that now sits beside my bed.

The ring I will never watch him place upon my finger.

And I need a drink. Despite what I promised.

However, I find myself standing from the table. The first time I've stood since I arrived home.

Walking toward my bedroom - it isn't really 'ours' anymore, now, is it? - I can't help but think of what he would say right now. He would tell me that I'm strongest woman he's ever known. That I can do anything. That I don't have to let the demons win.

I know he would say it. He's said it every time before.

The ring is in my hand, now, and I'm replaying our relationship in my mind as I gaze at it.

It's been three long years. Only one of which was spent in his arms.

So much wasted time. 

So many incredible memories.

So many future opportunities, now lost.

If I can't have him put this ring on my finger, I'm going to spend tonight imagining that he's already done so.

I slip the band of platinum and diamonds onto it's rightful finger, and suddenly feel more complete.

But I know it's not real.

And I know Jose is waiting for me in the next room.

John would tell me to move on. To choose to survive this. To prove that I can.

And I want to.

I'm just not sure it's possible without him beside me.

I thought I could fight these evil spirits on my own, but when I made that decision, I knew I still had him to lean on if necessary.

That's no longer the case. Never will be again.

But if he is gone, I'm sure he's looking down on me right now.

And that thought scares me to death.

I don't want him to see me like this. To see me failing. Breaking my promise.

This isn't just for him. I promised myself, as well.

He wouldn't want this.

And I know that I'll wake up tomorrow, defeated and angry, if I let Mr. Cuervo enter my system.

The love of my life is no longer a reality. And I don't know what to do.

I only know what I can't do.

I can't cry. I've already done that today, and it's accomplished nothing.

I can't be bitter. This wasn't his fault. He didn't mean to leave me.

I can't forget all the things he wanted for us. That's all I have left.

And I can't drink.

No feeling of comfort or love will come from that action.

Only more pain. More fear. More anger.

Slowly, I turn and walk back into the kitchen. And there it is. Right where I left it.

I have no idea why I expected it to be gone.

Wishful thinking, I suppose.

I don't want to face the fact that I actually almost caved. Again.

But I can't bring myself to get rid of it.

And then…his words. And mine.

__

"…because if you're trying to prove something to me, like some kind of quick fix…"

"I didn't do it for you! I woke up sick of myself, okay?"

It's the truth. 

It wasn't for him. I needed to prove to myself that I could endure the temptations.

The pain.

With or without him.

If it were a lie, I wouldn't have said it in the middle of an argument that I had thought was surely the end of us.

Time to put my pledges into action. For my own sanity.

I pick up the bottle and the glass beside it, both still full of Jose's contents.

As I watch them flow into the sink, all I can think is that I'm observing my only solace as it disappears.

Without this liquid, I have nothing to hang onto anymore.

He was supposed to be my constant.

But he's gone.

And, now, so is my only remaining comfort.

The last drop of alcohol vanishes down the drain and I'm filled with pride.

And unbelievable rage.

I really needed that drink.

I still do.

But I need him more.

If only he were here.

Suddenly I find myself gripping the empty bottle tighter and tighter.

And I watch as I throw it violently against the wall.

Glass shatters across the room, and I can't comprehend anything right now.

I sink to the floor and place my head in my hands, exhausted.

And the ring is still on my finger.

If only the site of it there could, in fact, heal all wounds.

Only Carter's arms around me can do that, however.

But I'm surviving without him. I am.

And I can. Forever.

I don't want to. God knows I'd give anything to see his face right now. To kiss his lips and beg him never to leave my side again. But the past few minutes have proven that I can do this without him.

Yet, my unbelievable sense of contentment and success toward the battle with my old friend is not enough to drown out one more incessant thought.

This isn't happening to me.

-------------------------------------------------------------

__

Never thought I'd be in this place

It's someone else's life I'm living

Wish I was living a lie.

The hardest part is when the bough breaks

Falling down and then forgiving

You didn't kiss me goodbye

I'm choking on the words I didn't get to say

And pray I get the chance one day

I still run, I still swing open the door

I still think you'll be there like before

Doesn't everybody out there

Know to never come round?

Some things a heart won't listen to

I'm still holding out for you.

I can hear you smile in the dark

I can even feel you breathing.

But daylight chases the ghost

I see your coat and I fall apart

To those hints of you, I'm clinging

Now's when I need them most

I should get up, dry my eyes and move ahead

At least, that's what you would have said.

--SheDaisy "Holding Out For You"

________________________________________________________

Heh. There ya go. R/R if you want a quick update…I *do* have this whole thing planned out, so it's just a matter of motivating me to write it : ) Yep. That's the truth. Merci beaucoup.


	5. Nine Hours

AN: All the annoying emails have paid off. I know I should have/could have been faster…I've been in a rut of angst, considering what's happening on the show currently, so I couldn't bring myself to sit down and write MORE angst. But I did it. So here it is. As requested…chapter five. And I'm using a different format, because I couldn't really figure else how else to make this particular chapter work. So it starts off differently than the others. We'll go back to normal next time. The lyrics used are from the song "I Believe" by the group Diamond Rio…::swoon:: I am such a country music whore…

And we're still in Abby's POV, because…well…Carter's dead…::wooks:: and ::winks:: and *be patient, kids!* and *don't hate me. just trust me*

Chapter Five… "Nine Hours"

-------------------------------------------------

Every now and then,

The softest breath upon my skin,

I feel you come back again

And it's like you haven't been

Gone a moment from my side

Like the tears were never cried

Like the hands of time were

Holding you and me

-------------------------------------------------

"Abby?"

Is someone calling my name? Am I asleep?

"Abby, wake up…"

Yep. Sleeping.

Never waking up again.

So tired.

"C'mon Abby…get up…"

Fine.

I slowly and very unwillingly open my eyes, just enough to let in a crack of light.

Who the hell is waking me up?

And why the hell am I on the kitchen floor?

Curiosity, as usual, gets the better of me and I open my eyes completely.

Susan.

"Hey. Uh - are you okay? Did you…um…?"

I give her a look of confusion and glance around the apartment.

Then it hits me.

She thinks I passed out.

Shattered glass surrounds me.

I suppose I would have assumed the same thing if I were her.

And, suddenly, the memories of yesterday, last night, and my argument with Senor Cuervo come flooding back.

And I just want to go back to sleep. This is not something I want to remember.

I want to forget that he's gone.

John.

My Carter.

Looking at Susan again, I realize she's been staring at me with that look of worry, interest, and sympathy all mixed into one. And I hate that look. So much.

"What time is it?" It's the first time I've spoken in God-only-knows how long.

"It's almost 11 in the morning."

Nine hours. I managed to sleep nine whole hours and forget that yesterday ever happened. To dream that he was still beside me. Nine hours of peace.

Susan finally gives in and sits down beside me. "Abby…what happened here last night? Why didn't you call me? You know this is the last thing that Carter would have wanted -"

"I didn't." And her look is purely interest now. None of the other emotions. Just interest. "I wanted to. I needed to. I couldn't…I couldn't handle the thought of him being gone. I thought it would be okay to be here without him. I'm here without him all the time when he's working. But I couldn't do it. Everything in this damn place smells like him or belongs to him or…"

My voice trails off and Susan is silent for moment. Then I notice her gesture across the room, her voice light and yet worried at the same time. "What's with the mess? I mean, if you didn't drink…what happened?"

"Look, I really don't need this right now, okay?" I can't be proving my sobriety to my so-called best friend when all I can comprehend is that he's never coming back. "Susan, I swear to God, if you're going to interrogate me right now then I really would rather you just leave. And for that matter, how the hell did you even get in here?"

She raises her eyebrows at me and opens her mouth to speak, then thinks better of it. After a slight pause, she starts again. "Carter…gave me his key before he left. So I could check on you. And in case anything happened to him…"

Her words bring me back to reality with full force. I know he's gone. But hearing her mention it, even in such a subtle tone, just makes it all the more true.

I sigh deeply and bite my lip. It's all I know to do. 

I can't seem to get my lungs filled completely. There's not enough air. Not enough life. Not enough…

Carter.

My hands are suddenly on my face and I'm acutely aware of the headache that is pounding its way into my skull. If I didn't know better, I'd honestly say I _was_ hungover.

Before I realize what's happening, Susan grabs my hand and pulls it to her. The look on her face is again that of worry, interest, and sympathy. I want to kill that look.

But then I realize why that look is again directed toward me.

The ring. It's still on my finger. I forgot I had put it there.

But she says nothing. She just stands and takes my other hand, pulling me up as well.

"Let's get you some breakfast," she says with a smile, more of a demand than an offer.

What the hell. It'll get me out of this memory-infested apartment.

---------------------------

And with all my heart, I'm sure

We're closer than we ever were

I don't have to hear or see

I've got all the proof I need

There are more than angels

Watching over me

I believe, oh I believe

---------------------------

"So?"

We're sitting at a table in the corner of the small bagel shop down the street from the apartment. So much for escaping memories. This is where Carter and I get breakfast on our days off together.

Blueberry bagel, lightly toasted with cream cheese and a large coffee. He's so predictable. So plain. So ordinary. And I love everything about him. I always will.

"What?" I ask, returning my attention to the woman sitting across from me.

She glares at me as if I'm completely brainless for not understanding that one simple word. "The ring? You want to explain that one to me, please?"  
  
"You already know about it. I told you last night, and you said Carter had already shown it you, anyway." The sound of his name rolling off of my tongue hits me like a ton of bricks and I find myself, again, unable to breathe momentarily.

Susan apparently doesn't notice the pained look on my face, because she continues. "Yeah. He did. But why is it suddenly on your hand? Last night you told me that he never actually proposed."

I do not want to talk about this. At. All.

But I know Susan's worried about me. Rightfully so. She's not overstepping her bounds. I just don't want to talk about Carter. I don't know if I can right now. Not when the simple task of saying his name takes my breath away.

She's looking at me with patient eyes, however, and I figure - what the hell. Maybe it will get her off my back. For a while.

"I just…" Another deep sigh. "Last night - I just wanted to see…experience what might have been. Pretend like it still might be. I don't know…" I wave my hand in front of my face in an effort to dismiss the issue and move on.

Susan nods slowly, but I can tell that she thinks my disillusion of still wearing the ring right now is unhealthy. And I'm sure she's right. Wearing this ring and knowing that he's gone isn't going to make me feel any better. It's only going to keep me in denial longer. But I can't bear to take it off. Not now that it's actually there. On my finger. Where I've wanted to see it since I first laid eyes on this ring that fateful night that he almost proposed.

All I can do is bite my lip. I can't do it. It's not coming off. Not yet.

And I think she's reading my mind, because she places her hand over mine and whispers, "It's okay. In time…you'll be able to do it."

I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. I've never felt this weak in my life.

Even after Brian…I still felt some sense of self-control.

Not now. I can't seem to convince myself that it's wrong to cry. That it's wrong to feel helpless without him. That it's wrong to feel as if life is pointless now that he's gone.

This isn't who I am. I'm strong and independent. So why can I not stop depending on him?

I have to.

He's gone.

My mind wanders back to the thoughts and events of the previous night. "Susan…I didn't drink it. I swear…"

Now she's the one waving the discussion aside. "Forget about it. I believe you. I'm sorry for insinuating otherwise. I know how hard you've worked to get back on track. I just thought, for a split second, that if anything would drive you back to the bottle it would be…ya know…"

"You know what?" I ask bluntly, eyes wide. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Him. I don't want to think about it. Let's just make that something that we don't talk about. And let's get out of here," I say, pleading, as I stand and grab my purse. "This place reminds me of him, too. I just want to go to work. Stay busy."

She stands now, as well. "You're going in? Abby…I don't think…"

"I'm going. I can't stay in that apartment all day. And anywhere else I go, I'll still just think about it. I have to work. It's the only distraction, so please just get off my back about this…"

I realize I'm being a little harsh, and I sigh as my face softens a little.

Susan accepts my look as an apology and nods, finally taking a few steps toward the door. She turns and smiles, and I close my eyes for one more long pause before following her out into the hot Chicago morning.

----------------------------------------------

Now, when you die

Your life goes on

It doesn't end here when you're gone

Every soul is filled with light

It never ends, if I'm right

Our love can even reach across eternity

I believe, oh I believe

----------------------------------------------

This was definitely not a good idea.

Out of all the places to try to hide from memories of Carter and voices speaking his name, County General is not the one that I should have run to. Everywhere I look in this place, I see him. Hear him. Feel him.

Can't set foot in Trauma One. It's where he first kissed me. Where he happened upon my tattoo. Where we first…

Yeah. Can't go in _there_.

Drug lockup? Nope. Too many stolen moments, soft caresses, gentle kisses, sweet nothings whispered into my ear. Mark that off the list as well.

Nurses Station? Admit Desk? No way. In my mind, there he is. Exhausted from a days work, eyes shining brightly as he sees me walking toward him. Mouth forming the words "Beautiful Nurse" with a smile and a wink. Traditional greeting for those moments. The most appropriate and yet still affectionate thing that he could think to say in front of everyone else in the area. Subtle touches of my hand to his, sexual banter and innuendo in a code that only we understood, his hand grabbing my ass - or mine, his - whenever we passed one another. Clearly, those two locations are off limits.

And then there's the lounge. Which is absolutely impossible for me to enter. I tried it when I got here this morning. Won't be doing that again. Memories of him, asleep on the couch as I sneak up and leave a soft kiss on his forehead. Flashes of the times he held me in his arms in that room, whispering promises of commitment and kissing me with passion. Sitting beside him and holding his hand as he comforted me. Laughing with him about our latest adventures together. Teasing him with talk of 'seeing him off' before he would leave me on one of his many trips. And…yes…a sexual encounter or two. What can I say? Love makes you do crazy things, after all. It is, by far, the one place that I simply cannot be in right now.

So many other places that are part of my daily routine are now being completely and purposefully avoided.

A certain restroom. Casual banter and pilfered moments of affection, hidden from the others during fourteen days of solitary confinement that are branded into my memory. His lips upon my neck. My hands running through his hair. The inability to keep our hands off of one another. The morning after that first night of passion, with talk of another tattoo and his name plastered upon my arm. Smiles that simply wouldn't fade. Words of adoration and light touches upon my skin. No other restroom will ever be that romantic - that kinky.

Doc Magoo's. Sure, I wanted to be there yesterday. Now it's all too real. I can't. It's where so much happened. It's hot fudge sundaes. It's coffee and pie. It's our history.

The roof. My constant escape to solitary moments of thought and peace. But it's where we first began. It's where he brought me coffee and joked with me about keeping warm in an incubator. It's where we became friends on that fateful Valentine's night that changed him forever. In more ways than one, when you think about it. It's where he first proposed. Or at least made clear his intentions toward me. I never got the ring, but I'll never forget the look on his face. The feeling that rushed through my body when he screamed that he wanted to marry me. Sheer thrill. Nothing more. Nothing less. I can't be there either, now. It's too much.

And to top it all off, my wonderful subordinates - my lovely nursing staff - is in rare form today. If I ever thought they had hit their peak when it came to gossip before, I have surely been put in my place today. Every corner that I turn, every door that I open…I hear the remnants of a conversation involving me. And Carter. And the ring that still rests on my finger right now.

All day, they've been discussing my loss. My pain. My pitiful state. My ring.

And wondering, very loudly I might add, why it is that this ring has appeared now, only after he's gone.

I realize that they don't mean to be insensitive assholes, but…really. Can we please not discuss this? No one should discuss this. At least wait until my shift is over.

I shouldn't have come in.

But the other option was even worse.

It was either this…or the apartment.

Alone.

Again.

With nothing but my thoughts. No distractions at all.

And that would be…less than okay.

I wouldn't fall apart, though. I've decided that I can do this. I can be strong. I _am_ strong. He believed that about me, and I want to prove to him that he was right. Even if he'll never see it happen.

I'm going to pull myself together and take this one minute at a time, and I know I can survive this. I love him. So much more than I ever told him. So much more than he ever knew.

And I miss him. No words can express how much. I always will. Missing him will never end.

But I _can_ live without him. I don't want to. God knows I'd do anything…but I _will_ make it. It's as much for myself as it is for him. I have to show myself that I'm resilient. That I am, in fact, the woman that he always told me he saw within my eyes.

He would want that for me. And I want that, too.

Not as much as I want him.

But I know I can do this.

I know he'll be with me every step of the way, watching over me. Guiding me. Just like when he was here.

And my heart still breaks with the longing to hold him. It hasn't stopped.

I'm not sure it ever will.

----------------------------------------------

Forever you're a part of me

Forever in the heart of me

I will hold you even longer

If I can

Oh the people who don't see the most

See that I believe in ghosts

If that makes me crazy, then I am

'Cause I believe, oh I believe

There are more than angels

Watching over me

I believe, oh I believe

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You likey? R/R and I'll get right on that next chapter…hmm…Heh. Good things in store. Like I said, I have this ALL planned out already…don't worry kids…hang in there, be patient with me. Angst is important, as we are all clearly learning lately with what's happening on the show…Gah! Okay…yeah…R/R and I'll be your best friend. Merci beaucoup.


	6. One Week

AN: Tee-hee. I lurve all of you that have reviewed. This story has become my...well, my baby, I suppose. Keep up those reviews - they are making me so very joyous. Anyhoo, like I said before - Carter's dead ::wooks:: So we're staying in Abby's POV. Which is what this is...for anyone interested, I'll probably shat out a few ridiculously fuzzy fics as soon as I finish this...and now that we've seen how the Africa story played out (which kicked ass, I must say), this is totally becoming just a different spin on that plot. Right....here we go...Like I said...trust me. Trust. Me. If you think I'm a bitch for killing Carter...read this damn chapter and get off my back! Thank you...heh.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

One week. A week ago today, he was standing in our apartment and promising to be right back.

How did my life turn upside in just a matter of days? How did I get here? To this place, without him...

The past seven days replay continuously in my mind. Every moment. His face. His promises. His kisses. The ring. The letter. The dreams. The hope...

The news. The information that shattered my world.

The denial.

The tears.

The tequila.

The strength to carry on.

The memories.

The love. Never-ending.

And back to the ring.

Still, after almost five days of knowing that he will never return...it remains on my hand.

My commitment to him - my love of him - will never die.

Even if he did.

I heave a sigh of exhaustion as I slowly pull up in front of my apartment building and park the Jeep. Leaving the ignition on, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel and close my eyes, listening.

The White Stripes are blaring loudly from the speakers. He hated my music. Punk rock 80's anger music, he called it. But at the same time, he always smiled when he turned on the engine and found that I had been playing my music in his car, yet again. Secretly, he enjoyed this. I know. Because it's a part of who I am, he loved it anyway.

I've made a quick, yet painful return to the real world. There was no purpose to my continued moping. My constant grieving. Without a doubt, I grieve. I never stop. I think of it constantly. Of him.

But I have to carry on.

And, so, I have jumped back into the daily routine of working 12 - 16 hour shifts, taking coffee breaks with Susan, laughing as much as possible with Deb as she complained about Pratt, listening to my "anger music" instead of depressing love songs that I never actually liked anyway...

Attempting to return some normalcy into my life.

As much as possible, anyway.

It's what he would want for me.

It's hard as hell, but I can do it.

I'm strong. And I can overcome anything.

He said it one million times. Now, I finally believe him.

If only he could see me now...

I lift my head and turn off the ignition, reaching for my purse and sighing again as I unlock the door to step out into the balmy Chicago afternoon.

This is not how I expected to be spending this day.

In a hundred years, I would never have imagined myself alone and coming to terms with the fact that my future did not involve him. Not today. Not this day.

This day was to be special. Memorable.

And it is. But for all the wrong reasons.

Will I ever stop missing you, John?

That seems unlikely.

I take a few steps toward my building before a familiar voice calls out to me, shocking me out of my thoughts.

"I've been waiting here for almost an hour! Why don't you answer your cell phone?"

I roll my eyes and smile a little. "I was just...driving around. Thinking. Running a few errands. The phone battery died this morning. Sorry."

She gives me a nod and I can see the twinkle in her eyes. Something is...different. She had better not be here to cheer me up again. Not now. Not today. This is not a day to cheer me up.

Finding the key to my building, I walk up the stairs and past where she is sitting on the stoop.

"What's up?" I ask finally, unlocking the door. "What's so important that you had to sit here and wait for me?"

She bites her lip. Great. Never a good sign. "Can I come up for a while?"

"Susan, really, today is not a good day. I just want to be alone...Just...think about everything."

She follows me inside anyway. Damn her for being so stubborn.

"Abby, I promise...let's just have a cup of coffee, I swear you won't regret this. Just..."

"Fine. But only one cup. I can't deal with this today."

I see a smile begin on her lips and I can't help but wonder what the hell she's up to.

I'm in no mood for it, whatever it is.

Entering the apartment, I toss the keys on the side table and throw my purse on the couch, moving to the kitchen to start the coffee.

"Abby...sit down for a minute."

I look at her and glare. What does she _want _from me?

"Do you want coffee or not? Because I need to _make_ it before you can _drink_ it. Now what the hell is with you today?"

"Would you just sit down, please? I have to talk to you. It's important."

"I don't want to sit down. Just talk."

"Abby..."

"I don't want to sit down! What? Just tell me!"

"Luka called me today."

Oh.

"He - uh - was calling to say he'll be back sooner than expected. That Carter had things under control..."

My heart stops.

What?

Was that supposed to be funny?

I give her a look of anger, confusion, and complete pain. That was below the belt, Susan...

"What did you say...?"

Her eyes are shining, and then a smile spreads from ear to ear.

"Carter has things under control. Carter. Luka said he was heading out to Matenda as soon as he got off the phone, and that Carter was staying in Kisangani to handle the patients. He's alive, Abby. We were wrong."

I...cannot breathe.

My eyebrows are creased into a look of confusion and my jaw is wide open, reaching toward the floor of my now-spinning kitchen.

I must be hearing things. She must have heard wrong. Something isn't right, here.

"Wait...what? But how? I don't..."

"Luka said the rebels had attacked the first day that Carter arrived. They lost the phone lines for several days. That Carter was with a patient and told him to pass along word that he's sorry he hasn't called yet. Abby..."

My left hand is covering my eyes as my right hand grips the countertop, keeping me on my feet.

I pull my hand away and look at my friend, who is staring back at me with hope and confusion mixed into one. She's not comprehending my lack of joy right now...

But I don't understand...

"Um - " I grip the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger, searching for the words. "Did you talk to him? How can you be sure?" My voice is shaky, barely above a whisper.

She smiles. "Yeah, I talked to him. He's fine, Abby. He's...Carter. As soon as Luka mentioned him, I demanded that he put Carter on the phone. I think I scared the hell out of Luka, since he didn't understand, but...yeah, I talked to him."

My heart is pounding. I think it's going to burst out of my chest. Tears of joy are springing from my eyes and a smile is slowly spreading across my face.

"What - uh - what did he say? Is he...okay? I mean, is he safe?"

"He's fine. He said to tell you he misses you like crazy. I told him, Abby..."

"What?"

"That we thought he was dead. That we heard about the plane crash, and we hadn't heard from him. That we were certain he was gone."

I wipe a tear from my cheek and try to concentrate on what she's saying. I can't form coherent thoughts at the moment. I can't believe this is happening.

"He freaked out, Abby. He feels terrible about not trying harder to call. He - he said he's coming home tomorrow."

"He - he what?" I can't even handle this right now. This is too much. He's alive. He's coming home. Tomorrow. I should have known. I should have trusted that feeling in my gut that told me he wasn't truly gone. We're so connected - I should have sensed it.

"Don't leave the apartment, okay? He told me to find you so he could talk to you, but you had already left the hospital. I promised I would track you down and tell you, so you would know the truth. He's calling you tonight. As soon as he gets enough free time. Stay here and wait."

"Yeah, like I'm moving from these four walls until I hear from him. Right. That's happening."

My tears are gone now and there's nothing but a smile. A genuine smile. One I haven't experienced in a very long time.

Susan laughs at me and goes to sit on my couch. I follow, curling up in the corner across from her.

"Still wearing that ring, I see," she comments.

I look at my hand and my smile gets even bigger. "Yeah. Guess I have to take it off now, huh?"

"Nah. It's a good luck charm, right? You refused to take it off, and look what happened. He's alive."

"He's alive," I whisper in response. "I can't wrap my mind around this. This is real, right?"

She reaches across the sofa and takes my hand. "Yeah, it's real. He's okay. He's coming home. Apparently, destiny really is hell-bent on you two being together. It really pisses me off sometimes, you know that?"

She's smiling and I laugh at this. "Can't get rid of him. God knows I've tried. He doesn't listen. I should thank him for that..."

I look up into her eyes and find them full of happiness and compassion. I'm so glad to know her. Other than Carter, she is my support. My stronghold.

"Thank you, Susan."

"For what?"

"Everything. Being there. Being here. Just...being my friend. I know I'm hard to take most of the time."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Nonsense. You?"

This brings about the first real, honest laughter that I have expressed in a week. It feels so good. My life is whole again...almost. I need him here. I need to touch him and know that this is true.

"Honestly, though, Abby...you've done so well this past week. You're strength is incredible. You think you're incapable of so much, when you clearly have the ability to overcome anything. I know nothing seems right without him, but I think you've proven that you _can_ do it alone. Just...now you don't have to. But you should be proud of yourself. He is."

"What?" I'm confused again.

She just raises a hand and dismisses the comment with a soft smile. Whatever.

"Sus, you know what today is, right?" I can't help but smile as I think of the sudden change in how this day is being spent.

Before she can answer, the phone is ringing. I can't move. My body is cemented to the couch. What if it's _not_ him? My heart can't take the expectation of hoping it's him every time the phone rings.

Three rings now, and I still haven't moved.

Susan laughs at my paralyzed state and reaches for the phone.

"Hello?...It's Susan....Yeah, she's here...Yes, I did...I know..." She gives me a wink and smiles as she continues to listen into the receiver. It's him. He's really okay.

Thank you, God.

"...No, she's okay. She's good. I think she needs to hear your voice, though, she's still in disbelief...Yeah, I know. I'm sorry...You're welcome. Here she is..."

She hands me the phone and I bring it my ear, slowly, still holding onto the fear that this is all a big joke and I'll hear Frank's voice on the other end yelling "Gotcha!" or something unbearable like that. I quickly let out the breath that I didn't realize I was holding. Here goes nothing.

"John? Is it really you?"

Silence. What is this? I look to Susan, who seems confused by the pained look on my face.

And then I hear him sigh.

"Hey, baby."

And I gasp. My free hand is back over my eyes as I try to hold back the sobs of joy. This is for real.

"John...I - I thought..."

"I know. I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry. It never crossed my mind that everyone there might assume...I'm sorry."

"No! No, don't be sorry. I'm just so happy you're okay."

I notice Susan stand from the couch and grab her purse, then signal to me that she's leaving. I nod and wave in gratitude, and she mouths that she'll call me later.

"Abby...are you okay? I mean, really, are you okay?"

"Never been better. I just...an hour ago I thought I would never see you again. You're safe, though, right?"

"I'm fine. I promise. It's been crazy around here. The day of the plane crash, we got several of the victims brought to our outpost...I knew one of the guys. It was rough. And then...we lost the phone lines. I'm sorry, I would have found another way to contact you had I known what was going on there..."

"I shouldn't have assumed. My gut was telling me you were okay. But all the evidence...and I couldn't make my mind believe it. But you're okay. God, I miss you."

"I miss you. I'll be home tomorrow. I'm heading to the airport as soon as we hang up."

"No. Don't."

There's silence for a moment and I know that he's trying to understand the meaning behind my last comment.

"This trip is important to you. I don't want to be the reason you cut it short. You're okay. I'm okay. It's only one more week. Stay."

"Abby..."

"John. They need you there. Luka's already coming back tomorrow. What are they going to do without you both? Finish what you started."

"I need to come home. You..."

"I'm okay." And I sense that he's reading my mind. He always can. "I wasn't. But I am now. That night...the night they told me you were gone...I almost - I was about to..."

"Susan told me." Right. Of course. "I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you, baby." Now Susan's comments are making more sense. "I always told you that you could do anything."

"I know. I didn't want to go back to that life. Even if I didn't have you, I didn't want to return to that. And I didn't. I'm okay, John, really. I'm better than everyone expected. I can survive another week. Just do what you have to do. I want you to."

"I have to come home, that's what I have to do." He's stubborn. Just like Susan. Just like me, actually. Which is why he won't win this one.

"No, you don't. You're supposed to have faith in me, remember?" I say it with a smile on my face and I can tell that he's smiling now, too.

"I always have."

"Yeah. You always have."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. Stay there. Finish being a hero to those who need you."

"_You_ need me."

"That's what you think."

We both laugh. I've missed this. I can't believe this is actually happening. This was the farthest thing from my mind an hour ago.

"I'll be home in a week, as planned, then. But I promise you - I will find a way to call you everyday until then. Somehow, I'll do it."

"I love you, John. You know that, right?"

"I know. I love you more."

"I highly doubt that, after the week I've had."

"Okay, I'll give you that." He laughs again, but it's a laugh shrouded in the thoughts that I know he's having of what I must have been through while imagining my life without him. "Abby..."

"Yeah?" I smile. His voice. Saying my name. It's the most beautiful sound in the world.

"I love you more than anything."

"The feeling is mutual." I sigh, knowing that this conversation is coming to an end. He can't stay on the line from Africa forever. "You should get back to your patients."

"You'll be okay? I'll be on the next flight, I swear, just say the word..."

"John! I'm perfect. One more week just gives me the time I need to plan a party and buy the necessary items for a little...reunion..."

I say it with a hint of seduction and I can hear him take in a breath before responding.

"Reunion, huh? You're not making it any easier for me to stay...what kind of reunion did you have in mind?"

Grinning like a mischievous child, I lower my voice to the sultry tone that drives him wild.

"I was thinking a hot fudge sundae from Doc's...slathered across your body...with help from those fuzzy handcuffs, of course"

I hear him moan lowly into the phone. I miss this man. I need him, terribly. But I can survive another week. I want him to finish his mission. It's not always about my wants and needs - I finally realized that.

"That was just…_cruel_. I'm getting on a plane. You go buy that sundae, I'll be there in the morning"

A laugh of pure joy escapes from my lips. "I love you. I'll see you in a week. Go. Be a hero."

"You're incredible, you know that? I love you. So much. I'll see you next Sunday."

"I'll be waiting."

"And Abby?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Happy Anniversary."

I can't help the tear that rolls down my cheek.

Happy doesn't even begin to describe it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

More AN: BWAH! Told you to trust me. Good? Too mushy? Too unrealistic? I dunno...There ya go, though. And, um, if you've never heard the song "Whenever You Call" by Mariah Carey and Brian McKnight - you need to download it or buy it...now. I've loved it for years, so very Carby it is, and I was listening to it on repeat whilst writing this chapter...Good. There. Now...R/R, else I hunt you down and strangle you in your sleep...and Douglas McDuck, my little rubber ducky who's "good friends" with Maura, will make you rue the day you neglected to R/R - mwahahahaaaaa...Right. I'll go work on the next chapter now...or...whatever...


	7. Fourteen Days

AN: Stupid-ass chapter that made me revise it almost 10 times before I felt like it was worthy of being uploaded. Gah. And I *still* feel as though it's lacking. I dunno how to explain it…whatever. I'm tired of re-working it. Thanks to Kate and Jules for giving me so much input and what needed to be changed. Over and over and over…A never-ending revision of this chapter. Hope you all like it. PUH-lease, more than ever, R/R. This chapter tortured me - never had to re-work a chapter so much in m'life…gah. Praying that it does justice to our babies…

Carter's POV ::wooks:: About time, eh?

______________________________________________________________

Fourteen Days.

When I originally made the decision to trek off to the Congo, fourteen days seemed like nothing.

Two weeks.

A sliver of time.

Over and done with before I had a chance to miss what I had left behind.

Now I know better.

Fourteen days can be torture.

The longest two weeks of a person's life.

Especially when you rarely get a chance to sleep, and your mind is consumed with one constant thought: Her.

I realize that my purpose for traveling there was to do my part; save lives, bring healthcare to those in need of it most.

Prove to myself that I'm worth more than just the Carter Family fortune.

And yet, I could never get through a full 30 minutes without images of her - memories of her - wafting through my psyche. Part of me left her behind so that she would have time to think. So that we both would have time to think. I always knew what I wanted from her - from us. But I had been getting an eerie feeling that _her_ intentions for our relationship were still undetermined.

So I left her.

Under the guise of a simple two-week medical mission, I managed to give us both the space that I was sure we needed. Little did I know how quickly that decision would be regretted.

Not that I wish I had never gone.

Wonderful things were accomplished during my time in Africa. Lives were saved, medications were administered, and the true feeling of being a doctor returned to me. It had been missing for so long.

It didn't take fourteen days to miss her, though. It took less than 24 hours.

And then, I was incapable of hearing her voice for almost a week. I thought I would go insane.

Apparently, I'm more in love that I ever let myself believe.

Clearly, I cannot survive without that woman.

The thought that she spent nearly five days imagining a life without me - coming to terms with a death that I had not actually experienced - causes an unbearable ache in my heart every time. I hate to picture her…the pain that I know she went through. The struggle that only Susan has filled me in about. Abby doesn't have to. She would if I asked, but there's no need. I can imagine what it must have felt like to her, thinking that she had lost me.

It must have felt somewhat like the way I feel when I think of losing her. Only worse, because she was tortured by the thought that it was true.

The only thing that I want to do right now is wrap her into my arms and guarantee that I will never leave her again. That I will - as promised - be the constant in her life.

One week ago was our anniversary. An entire year together. And I can't help but remember all of the times that I tried to convince myself that she would never actually be mine. All of the hours I spent in agony, pining for her and dreaming of the day that I would hold her in my arms.

Funny, really, that I held her in my arms for an entire year…but still found myself in agony, pining for her and dreaming of that same dream again over the past fourteen days.

I've said it once before - there truly is something about her that I can't stay away from.

Her voice on the phone was the only thing to keep me sane over the last week without her. I called everyday, as I had promised. And everyday I would tell her again that I was heading to the airport to catch a flight home. And everyday she would argue with me in that way that causes my mouth to spread into a grin that cannot be wiped away. She would tell me to stay. I would tell her I just wanted to see her. She would say I'd be seeing her in a few days. That if I came back early, she would never speak to me again because it would ruin her plans.

And her "plans," secret as they were, managed to be the only thing to keep me in that African village.

Intrigued doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about these "plans" of hers…

It was fourteen days ago that I left. And now I'm standing outside of our apartment yet again.

That familiar feeling overwhelms me as I rummage through my pockets for the key.

Comfort.

I'm home.

I open the door as quietly as possible and place my bags on the floor beside the table. It's dark in here. Please don't tell me she's working. She knows I'm supposed to be getting home tonight. She knows how desperately I want to see her. I was hoping she was just as desperate to see me.

I glance at my watch and realize that it's almost midnight. Maybe she fell asleep.

As I turn back around to grab my bags again, I'm engulfed by a scent that I know all too well. A scent that I haven't been privy to for the past two weeks. It's…vanilla. Mixed with Orange Citrus shampoo, Johnson's baby lotion, Downy fabric softener, and Camel Lights.

It's Abby.

And I'm overcome by a sense of peace just smelling her in the air.

Lifting my bags, I turn and take a step toward our bedroom.

A shadowy figure is leaning against the doorframe.

Legs bare, long blonde hair twisted into a messy clip at the back of her head, soft tendrils falling into her eyes. Her only piece of clothing - my extra-large Northwestern T-shirt.

More beautiful than I have ever seen her. And I can barely see her at all through the darkness.

"Hey," she whispers softly, and I can tell that she's holding back tears. She told me several times over the past week that she wouldn't truly believe I was alive until she saw me. Even my voice wasn't proof enough. But here I am. And she believes.

Unable to think of anything besides her, I drop my bags to the floor yet again.

"Hi…I didn't think you were home."

And the shadowy figure steps closer, suddenly bathed in the light from the windows.

"Of course I'm home. I was just…"

"Putting the finishing touches on your 'plans'?"

She's standing in front of me now, smiling.

"Yeah…"

"And what do these plans consist of? You've had me curious all week…"

She stares into my eyes for what seems like hours, then places her hand upon my cheek and sighs.

"I can't remember anymore."

That's it. She's too close. Not close enough.

My arms quickly snake around her waist, pulling her so close that not even an inch of air separates us. Looking up at me, she smiles, her arms finding their place behind my head. I stare into her eyes momentarily, searching for a sign.

And all I find is passion.

Love.

She maintains her grip around my neck with one arm, massaging lightly, using the other to gently caress my face with her hand. Her thumb finds my lips and the gentleness of her touch is overpowering.

"Abby…" I mutter, but am unsure if I actually said it out loud.

"Don't talk," is a all she replies, continuing her intense concentration on my face.

I close my eyes, wrapping my arms even tighter around her waist, simply taking pleasure in the close proximity. 

Her thumb is now lightly floating across my closed eyelids. She's never been this subtle and concentrated with her movements before. It's a tremendously evocative encounter. I can feel her opening her soul to me on so many levels right now.

"What are you doing?"

I keep my eyes closed as I ask, and her slow and intricate journey over my face does not falter at my question.

A soft sniffle is her only response, and I realize that she's trying not to cry. Trying to simply exist in this moment without letting her deepest emotions take over. As usual, trying to prove her strength.

I open my eyes and smile at her. The most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

"It's okay, baby. It's really me. I'm here."

She bites her lip and I feel her release my neck, taking a step back and looking deeply into my eyes. She's loosened her hold on me, but my arms refuse to let go of her.

Her hands rest on my forearms now, and her eyes remain locked with mine.

"You're here." She says it matter-of-factly, smiling slightly as she wraps her arms around me once again and buries her head in it's accustomed home, right below my chin. "I'm so glad you're here."

I could stay like this forever. Arms holding tightly to each other, her face pressed against my chest, hearts beating in sync with one another.

But I pull back slightly, needing to be closer. She glances up at me and now it's my turn to caress.

Her face.

Her neck.

Her.

As my hand gently rubs the softness of her cheek, she closes her eyes and leans into my touch.

I've missed this. Words can't express how much.

I never want to lose this.

Never want to lose her.

Kissing her is the only logical action that my mind can come up with. We've been standing here long enough. I want to connect. To experience the sparks that ignite whenever her lips touch mine.

The kiss is tender at first, slow and purposeful.

I'm here, Abby.

I've missed you.

Can you feel it?

But, soon enough, her hand is behind my head, pulling me further into the kiss. She parts my lips with her tongue and the passion knows no bounds. My head is spinning and my heart is pounding within my chest. It feels as if this is the first time we've ever kissed. This is a kiss unlike any other we've shared together. This kiss…it encompasses all of the love that we have for one another.

The joy.

The passion.

The undying emotion.

All here, in this moment. This one kiss.

My hands begin to wander from her waist, one finding a new home against the bare skin of her back; the other, staking it's claim in her hair, releasing it from the clip and allowing it to cascade down her shoulders. Her free hand - the one not holding my head tightly against hers - is now slowly traveling up and down the inside of my shirt.

Long before I'm ready for this moment to end, she pulls away and takes a step back from me.

I give her a look of torturous confusion, tossing in all the passion that I feel for her at the same time.

She reaches out her left hand to me and I take it in my own. Her whisper is seductive and wanton.

"Come on…I need you."

Tugging at my hand, she takes a few steps toward the bedroom and I silently follow. My fingers interlock with hers, and then I notice something. There's something causing a barrier between the silky skin of her finger and mine.

She continues to walk, pulling me into the bedroom as I raise her hand and see the new object of my attention.

The ring that I left for her sits upon her finger.

I wasn't even sure that she had found it. I never bothered to ask.

But she did. And she's wearing it.

I'm not exactly sure what that means, but I know that I've never felt as much joy as I do at this moment, seeing that ring upon her finger.

I look up and realize that we've stopped walking, that she's staring at me while I stare at her hand.

And the look in her eyes is not what I expected.

I see worry.

Fear.

Anticipation.

Anxiety.

But behind all of that, I still see love.

Taking a step toward her, I keep her hand in mind and rub my finger over the diamond. I take her other hand into my free one and lean toward her face, lightly leaving a kiss upon her cheek before moving my lips toward her ear.

And instead of a question, it comes out as a statement.

A request.

A demand, of sorts.

"Marry me…"

The world seems to stop as I wait for her to respond.

To move.

To breathe.

Anything.

Then, keeping our hands locked together, she begins to walk backward toward the bed, smiling at me surreptitiously. As she reaches the side of the mattress, she sits and then lays back, pulling me on top of her. My hands rest on either side of her, holding me above her as I stare into her eyes, impatient for a response of any kind.

Some signal that my statement was heard at all.

Her right hand now rests behind my head, running her fingers through my hair, and her left hand sits upon her chest, just below her neck, with the diamond sparkling brightly. That mysterious smile still plays upon her lips as she looks deeply into my eyes.

Just staring.

Nothing more.

She's always been so discreet with her emotions.

With her thoughts.

I can't take it anymore.

One more deep breath.

"Abby…"

"Say it again."

I lean down and kiss her softly before staring into her eyes once more.

"Marry me."

And her smile is no longer mystifying. It is simply a smile of pure happiness.

She rolls her eyes in that familiar fashion and shrugs her shoulders as if it's something she hears everyday. A knowing grin appears on her face, telling me that she's long-ago decided upon the answer that I'm waiting to hear.

"Okay."

With that, she pulls my face to hers once again and resumes the passion of our previous moments. Only this time, the passion is even stronger. This time, she's sealing her answer. Sealing our future.

As she removes my shirt, unbuttons my jeans and takes the first steps toward our ecstasy, she whispers in my ear once more.

"Does this mean I have to break it off with the sexy law student down the hall?"

I release a laugh that is reserved only for our banter.

"Not if I can keep taking that hot candy-striper into the storage closet at work…"

She chews her lip in mock-contemplation, then smiles again.

"It's a deal."

Shaking my head in awe of this woman, I lean down to kiss her once more.

"I love you, John."

A simple statement. And I never get tired of hearing it.

"Of course you do."

I smile and she smacks my arm lightly in response.

"I mean it. I really do."

"I know. I love you, too, baby."

And, at this moment, my world is complete.


	8. Three and a Half Years

A/N: Okay kiddies, we've reached the finale leg. This is the last chapter. There **will **be an epilogue uploaded soon, a little 3rd Person view into the lives of Carter and Abby over the years after this chapter ends. A little attempt to "wrap it all up in a big bow" as Dr. Dave once said…::wooks:: Anyway, I'll do more in-depth notes and thank yous after the epilogue. For now, here's Chapter 8 - the finale *true* installment of this story. I had a moment in my mind when I started this, as to where it would end. And we're at that moment. I never intended this to be a long chapter fic, so I've stayed within my original boundaries. Right. Enough rambling…Please R/R, as you all have been so wonderful about doing. It means so much, really. And makes me write faster…Heh.

'Spank juu to Kate and Kess for beta-ing this one. I wuff juu! And Julie, too, since she beta'd the first half of it when I was unsure whether or not to run with this idea…

Oh!! OH! And one more thing: For mood music, listen to **Janet Jackson's "Everytime" **whilst you read this. It pretty much encapsulates where I have Abby's mindset in this chapter…Listen to it, or read the lyrics…you'll understand…oh, screw it, I'll put the lyrics at the end of the chapter. Because I wuff 'tis song so very much…

Anyway, this chapter takes place about an two hours after the last one left off. Enjoy! I hope it's all you were expecting out of a final chapter…

Abby's POV (because I wuff her so very much, I suck her psyche dry…)

====================================================

Three and half years.

That's how long it took us to get to this moment in our lives.

Three and a half years. 

That's 1,277.5 days. 

It's 1,839,600 minutes.

After all that time, it still feels like only yesterday that we shared coffee on the roof and joked about keeping warm.

So much time together. Never _enough_ time together.

I always want more time with him. Need more time.

And now, we'll have that. After three and a half years, we've reached that pivotal moment that I often thought would never come.

No longer best friends. No longer boyfriend and girlfriend. We finally got there.

He's my fiancé, now.

I've been wearing this ring on my finger for over a week now, but it was always just a reminder of him - a link to what I was sure I had lost - until a few hours ago.

There's something different about it, now. Knowing that this ring represents our engagement - our _official_ engagement - brings some kind of new and indefinable sparkle to this diamond.

My heart still skips a beat when I look at it, but for a different reason now. 

Not because seeing it causes me to remember that he's gone, as it did before.

Only because seeing it makes my entire being swell with love.

With incontrollable joy.

I've been watching him sleep for over an hour now. I can't stop looking at him.

He's really here. He's really safe. He's really mine.

After I accepted his proposal, he made love to me as if he had never done so before.

Gently.

Slowly.

Making sure to imprint every moment onto his soul.

He whispered that he loved me, and although I know he does, I've never believed it as much as I did in that moment.

Feeling his arms around me, his lips upon my neck. It's a feeling that I had convinced myself I would never experience again.

And it was the most incredible encounter of my life. Just being with him again. Holding him. Loving him. Knowing that he was feeling the same about me.

I had pulled his face toward my own and whispered to him that I wanted him. Needed him. Forever.

He stared into my eyes and a smile began to form on his lips, before he descended toward my ear and I heard the most beautiful words in the world: _"Abby…my wife."_

The only response that I was capable of was a deeply emotional sigh. The thought of those words being true someday was overwhelming. I've never wanted something so desperately.

I had kissed him deeply, passionately, before continuing to show him all of the love that I possess for him.

And it's a love that I'm sure, now, will never leave me.

No matter what happens between John and I, my heart will never love another this deeply.

After more than an hour of watching him sleep peacefully, I'm overcome with the need to touch him. To reassure myself, once again, that he isn't simply a hallucination.

My fingers gently reach out and find his forehead, barely touching but making sure to feel the warmth of his skin. Moving to his hair, I run my fingers through it softly and revel in the beauty of the man that I will soon call my husband.

My husband.

I _never_ thought I would get married again.

In a million years, I never saw myself as someone that would give herself completely to another once more. Richard had done quite a number on me - I had convinced myself that being unmarried was a much better lifestyle for me.

That was before I met John, however.

I roll over on my back, taking my gaze away from him for the first time in hours. Letting the thoughts of my past run through my mind, I close my eyes and think about how much things have changed over the years.

Since the moment when I first met Carter.

When I first realized that there was a connection between us, I was afraid to let myself like him. Even as a friend.

Afraid to form any kind of emotional attachment.

It was easy with Luka - comfort, security…no risk of getting hurt. No emotions involved.

But I couldn't help myself, and soon I was in a state of friendship with Carter. Best friends. Despite my every effort, I really liked him. He was a good guy - a great friend. The only person I could be comfortable bearing my soul to.

He saw right through me, into the depths of who I am and who I truly want to be.

Before I knew it, my best friend had stolen my heart. Even in the midst of a relationship with someone else, I couldn't stop thinking of Carter. Thinking of the possibilities - of the 'what if's and 'what might be's.

Things ended with Luka and I was somewhat relieved. I was free to lose myself in the fantasy of me and John as more than just friends. I had finally admitted to myself that I liked him. I really, truly liked him. So much.

But even after allowing myself to like him, I was afraid to take the next step.

Afraid to kiss him.

Afraid of losing all that we had built together.

He was my best friend. I couldn't risk destroying that.

Sitting on the loading dock of the Lava Lounge one night, however, I realized that it was a risk worth taking. I had taken his face into my hands and stared into his eyes - begging, pleading with him to kiss me.

And in that moment, I knew that if he ever did press his lips to mine, I would never be afraid to reciprocate.

It wasn't long before that dream became a reality. His lips caressing mine, sending shocks of electricity throughout every fiber in my being.

Finally.

Why I was ever afraid, I'll never understand. Something so perfect and magical could never ruin the bond that we had created in the years previous.

Months passed and we settled into a relationship unlike anything that I had ever experienced. And his kisses were always with me. Always reminding me that I had made the right decision.

But then…another hurtle.

I had overcome my fear of kissing him, but now I was afraid to let myself love him.

Love.

It's not something that I give into easily. It's the biggest obstacle in my life. Every person I have ever let myself love has left me in shambles. Too many tears. Too much pain.

And I didn't want that with Carter.

We were happy together, just being in a relationship. Why bring love into the picture and risk destroying everything? Why couldn't we just be together and exist as one? Did love really need to make an appearance?

I was determined to keep it out of my life. I'll be damned if I was going to fall in love with him and watch myself end up with pieces of my broken heart all over the floor again. Love only causes pain. Never any good.

The way he looked into my eyes, though…I could see into the recesses of his deepest desires, and I knew that he would never hurt me.

He loved me. I could see it in his eyes. I could feel it in the way he held me.

This was different than before. He was different.

And no matter what I tried, I found myself falling in love with him.

Admitting to myself that I had never loved someone so much.

And, finally, admitting it to him. Only to hear him say in response that he felt the same.

No more fear. Only love. And, God, I have never felt so complete. So utterly and ridiculously happy. He loved me. He still does. And I love him, too. I always will.

The only fear that still looms over my head is that now that I love him, what if I lose him? What if he leaves? What happens if I wake up and realize that he's no longer there?

The answer lies in the past few weeks. I did lose him. As far as I was concerned, he was gone. Never to return. And I realized that even his 'death' couldn't change my world. My heart still beat with love for him. My head still replayed images of our time together. It was proven to me that I'm a better person because of the time that I've spent with him - a stronger person, overall. With or without him, I can make it through life and be the woman that he always told me I could be.

He's not really gone, though. He's here. Lying beside me, his arm gently splayed across my stomach. And I can't help but think that my fear of losing him is also unjustified. He's not going anywhere. He's going to marry me and keep me safe in his arms forever.

With every new-found fear, I took a leap of faith and risked it all. For him. For a chance with him.

And I couldn't be happier with the outcome of it all.

As I lie here and contemplate whether my name sounds better as 'Abby Carter' or 'Abigail Carter' - what? A girl has to prepare, right? - I feel his hand travel up my torso and begin to caress my neck. His lips press against my temple and I smile widely, eyes still shut in a state of wonder.

"You think too much," he whispers softly against my neck.

I laugh lightly and open my eyes, rolling onto my side so that our faces are now mere inches apart.

"Hi" I smile as I say it, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Hey yourself," he responds, moving his hand to push a strand of hair behind my ear.

I love it when he does that. God, I love it.

I let out a deep sigh and bite my lip before breaking the silence that has settled between us.

"I still can't believe it…"

"What? That I'm here, or that you agreed to marry me?"

I close my eyes and smile. "Both."

"Well, believe it. It's for real. Finally."

"Took you long enough to ask," I state sarcastically, raising my eyebrows and giving him a smirk.

"Me, huh? Well, I think it's debatable as to who caused the real delay…"

This earns him a smack on the chest, but he grabs my hand and pulls me closer, capturing my lips with his own.

This is heaven. This is where to be, forever.

And it looks like I'm getting my wish.

Forever. With him.

"Ya know," he whispers, and I notice a change in his expression. His face is serious now, distant. "That plane that crashed? I knew one of the guys. Josh. I'd only met him once, and we only talked for about five minutes at the airport, but still…He didn't deserve that."

"No one does…" I murmur as I reach to touch his face. I can't even begin to imagine the things that he saw while he was there.

"When they brought him to our outpost…I saw him, and all I could think about was his wife. He had told me they were only married for a year, just celebrated their anniversary. And I couldn't - God, I couldn't stop thinking how unfair the whole situation was. And I couldn't stop thinking about…"

He sighs deeply, stares directly into my eyes.

"…about you."

"John…"  
  
"I needed to talk to you, to hear your voice. To know that you were okay and to reassure myself that nothing would ever come between us. But the phone lines were down and then we just got so busy and I just…God, Abby, I'm so sorry I never called. I can't tell you how sorry I am that you went through that - that you sat here for days, thinking I was dead and…"

Closing his eyes, he shakes his head gently and I know that he still feels unimaginable guilt over the suffering the I endured. But that's the thing - I endured it. And he's okay. I don't want him feeling this way.

"It's okay, babe. We're both okay, and you're home. We're together, and I did okay while you were gone. Sure, it sucked. It hurt like hell, thinking you would never lie here beside me again…but it was just a misunderstanding, and you can't keep beating yourself up about, okay? I'm fine, I promise. You're here, now. I'm perfect."

I smile and punctuate my words with a quick peck against his lips, but I can see that he still has thoughts left unsaid.

"I know," he nods and smiles back warmly, seemingly giving thought to his next words. "I just - it's taken us so long to get to this moment, ya know?"

"I know. Too long."

"That's just it…I don't want to feel like we've wasted a single moment together. I don't want to end up like Josh and his wife - so close to having it all, and then it's gone in an instant. I don't want us to get so caught up in the petty things that we forget how lucky we are just to be together, ya know? I couldn't handle it if I lost you and felt like there was still so much unsaid - so much left for us to do."

I can't help the tears that are forming in my eyes, but I'm determined not to let them fall. Sometimes I still can't believe how wonderful this man is, though.

"Carter. That'll never be us, okay? I love you. It took us way too long to admit that, but it's true. I love you, and I know you love me."

A sneaky smile begins to form on his lips and I see his eyes light up, changing into the mischievous little boy that I love to banter with.

"You know that, do you? I don't know where you ever got _that_ idea…"

Shaking my head, I laugh gently and roll on top of him, pressing my lips to his and requesting entrance with my tongue. He obliges immediately, and we're quickly caught up in the passion that I'm assured will never fizzle out. Not for us. There's too much love here. Too much hope.

Pulling back, I leave one more kiss upon his forehead and move myself off of the bed. I wrap his blue flannel robe around myself, melting in his scent as it envelops me.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee. I'll be right back."

His only reply is a satiated and remarkably happy grin, and I can feel his eyes watching me as I exit the bedroom and head toward the kitchen counter. Searching the cabinets, I realize that I'm out of coffee. Apparently, awaiting his return has upped my need for caffeine in replacement of the alcohol and cigarettes that I tossed out of my life.

"Hey Carter?" I call from my corner of the kitchen, still searching the cabinets. "Honey, we're out of coffee. You want some tea instead?"

No answer. Maybe he's in the bathroom.

I fiddle with the tea bags and grab the kettle, filling it with water and placing it on the stove. It's at this moment that I feel his arms surround my waist and he places his chin upon my shoulder.

"Hi" he mumbles into my neck, kissing me softly.

"Mmm…" I moan in approval. "Hi."

His lips are next to my ear, now, and I can feel his warm breath against my skin. Then, a curious and gentle whisper.

"Did you just call me 'honey'?"

My head whips around to look at him in wonder. "What?"

And I think back over the previous moments.

"Uh - yeah, I guess I did…"

I raise my eyebrows at him and shrug slightly, unsure of my reaction. I'm not one for pet names.

"How very…_domestic_ of you…" he responds, a seductive and sultry lilt in his voice.

This brings a huge grin to my face and I raise my left hand into the air for both of us to inspect. Staring at the beautiful engagement ring on my finger, I decide on my reply.

"Well, ya know - it's never too early to get started on that, right?"

I hear him release a playful laugh before he reaches out and takes my hand into his, playing with the ring upon my finger. "Start on what? Your domesticity? You, me, that picket fence, a couple of kids and a dog? You mean _that_ domesticity?"

He's nuzzling my neck again and I stop to contemplate my reaction. There was a time, not so long ago, when the idea of a domestic life in the suburbs with a husband and a bunch of kids running around calling me 'Mommy' would have scared the hell out of me. Too many risks. Too many possible problems. Too many chances for pain and heartbreak. But standing here, feeling his lips upon my skin and watching him caress the diamond upon my finger, I realize that there's nothing I want more.

I sigh deeply and turn my face again, gaining his attention and gazing into his eyes.

"Yeah. That's exactly what I mean."

The smile that spreads across his face is remarkable. I love this man. I always will. And I'm willing to take another risk with him - the risk of sharing my life completely. The risk of marriage and family. It's like my mother once told me: _That's all there is, is risk. You just have to take a chance and leap into love. Otherwise, you're going to miss out on all the great things._

And I want the great things. With John. It's a risk worth taking.

He takes a step back, still holding my hand, and pulls me with him. Reaching in front of me, he turns off the stove and leans in to kiss me gently on the lips.

"Come on," he whispers, a light in his eyes.

I take a step forward and follow him back to the bedroom.

Every step I take from this moment forward is a step toward our future. A step toward the dream that I was once too afraid to believe in.

But I believe it now. And I know that this is real. This is true.

This is forever.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

__

I'm afraid I'm starting to feel

What I said I would not do.

But the last time really hurt me.

I'm scared to fall in love.

Afraid to love so fast.

'Cause every time I fall in love,

It seems to never last

But every time your love is near,

And every time I'm filled with fear,

'Cause every time I see your face,

My heart does begin to race every time.

One half wants me to go,

The other half wants me to stay.

And I just get so all confused.

I'm scared to fall in love.

Afraid to love so fast.

'Cause every time I fall in love,

It seems to never last

Every time your love is near,

And every time I'm filled with fear,

Cause every time I see your face…

Could it be that this will be

The one that lasts?

The fear does start to erase every time.

Could it be that this will be

The one that lasts for all my time?

===========================================================


	9. Epilogue: Forever

****

Epilogue

Forever.

As she lies in bed, gazing at the sleeping man beside her, she can only think of that one simple word.

Forever.

That endless and everlasting amount of time.

Forever.

It's what they both promised to one another this very day, just five short years ago. And as she watches him now, sleeping peacefully in the home that they have since created, she cannot imagine her life in any other fashion. This is how it was meant to be. Together, with him. Forever. The vows that they took five years ago today are still as clear as ever in her mind. No matter what comes, nobody leaves. This is eternal. This is perfect.

And she knows that nothing is every truly perfection, but even with all of the ups and downs that life has thrown at them in the past…this is as perfect as she could imagine a life being. It pains her, somewhere deep within, to remember how scared she used to be about entering this new chapter of life. She can't imagine her life without him, now. She can't imagine living anywhere else than in this home that he bought for her following their honeymoon. She can't picture waking up every morning and going through a daily routine that didn't include kissing him, touching him, and whispering those three precious words.

Sometimes she finds herself thinking that it's all a dream. No way could she be living a life that most women would kill for. She's never been that lucky. She's never been that willing to simply let go of her fears and hesitations. She's never been one to let herself accept all the blessings that she's ever wished for. But with him, she was different. He changed her. He changed her because he loved her. And she knew that no one would - and no one ever will - love her more than he. No matter what differences they've had or what arguments have found their way into this marriage, it always comes back to that one true fact. They love each other. More than anything.

And that's worth everything.

As he reaches a state of consciousness, he rolls over in bed and opens his eyes to find her staring at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Usually, he's the one to awake early and watch her in a state of slumber as the sun rises and cascades rays of light across her peaceful and beautiful face. Today, however, he finds that she has beat him to it. And he can't help but smile at the thought. It's good to know that they both enjoy the same early-morning activity. Not that there isn't _another_ early-morning activity that they both seem to enjoy, but that one tends to come about in result of this ritualistic sleep-watching…

He reaches his hand across the small distance between them and caresses her cheek ever so slightly. Leaning into his touch, she turns her head and kisses his palm gently with her pouty, morning lips. She's tired, and he can tell. It's to be expected. And yet, she's still awake before him - content to sit and watch him sleep. Every morning, he still finds himself in awe of the fact that she's truly here. She's really his wife, and has been for some time now. After so many years of thinking he would never hold her, and then many more years of drama and angst and seemingly-endless hardships…this is where they are. Together still. And happier than they've ever been.

Smiling at him softly, she glances past him toward the clock on the bedside table.

"You'd better get up. You're gonna be late for work."

He groans exaggeratedly and shoves his head back into the pillow, murmuring something about how no one should be forced to work on their anniversary. She laughs in return, questioning his comment.

"Why's that?"

Lifting his head, he takes her hand into his and pushes himself to sit upright against the headboard.

"Because…it's five years, ya know. That's a big deal. We've made it."

"What, you didn't think we would?" she whispers sarcastically, giving him a grin to show him that she's teasing.

"It's just…important, that's all. I'd rather stay home with you today."

She pulls her hand from his grasp and leans in to kiss him lightly on the lips before pulling herself out of the bed. Like it or not, it's time to get started on the day.

"Well, babe, I'd like that, too. But you have to go in."

"_Why_?" And now he's whining, reminding her all-to-clearly of another certain Carter that she knows.

She rolls her eyes in his direction and motions for him to get up and out of the bed so that she can begin the task of changing the sheets and starting the day's laundry.

"Because if you don't go in today, we surely won't be allowed the weekend off for our vacation now, will we?"

"Right. Point taken, Mrs. Carter," he says with a nod as he lifts himself and begins moving around the master bedroom.

"Don't do that. I told you - it makes me sound too much like a mother." She sighs with exasperation as she starts stripping the linens from the mattress and throwing them onto the floor beside her. He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, placing his lips against her ear and whispering softly.

"Well, you _are_ a mother."

This wins him an affectionate grin before she wriggles out of his grip and commands him to get showered and dressed for work. Now.

As he takes his time in the shower, she finishes re-making the bed and gathers up all the past week's laundry before carrying it downstairs and separating it into the washing machine. Once completed, she heads for the kitchen and puts the cleaned dishes from last night's dinner into their proper drawers and cabinets, following this action with the commencement of making breakfast. A daily routine that she's easily scheduled her life around. The chores of a house wife.

Although, house wife she is not. She continues working at the hospital, maintaining her position as Nurse Manager while John is now chief of the ER. But her hours have been cut in half, by her own choosing. In the past few years, she's found herself becoming fond of her time alone in the house - time to fill it with her own touch, make it into a true home, and in keeping with the Carter Family standards. Not that she's ever cared what his family thought of her…but now she and John _are _the Carter Family. The foundation is theirs. The fortune is theirs. And when she decided that she wanted to stay home more and concentrate on family responsibilities, there was no reason for her not to. The money was never an issue.

And today happens to be one of the many days that she is not working. She wishes he could stay home as well, but she knows that there are last-minute duties for him to clear up at the hospital before they take off on their anniversary get-away to a destination completely unknown to her. Leave it to John Carter to keep things a mystery even after seven years of being together. Five of those years spent in marriage. She still can't wrap her mind around it. It truly is like a dream. An amazing, incredible dream.

Finishing with the bacon and eggs, she places the food evenly onto plates and moves them to the table before glancing up and seeing him walk into the room.

"Hey sweetie," she calls out in a voice coated with sugar. "Did you sleep okay?"

He nods and saunters toward her, wrapping his tiny arms around her leg until she picks him up, laughing, and rests him upon her hip. Even at three years old, it's clear that this child has inherited at least one quality from his mother: he's not too good with mornings.

"I'm _hungry_, mommy." The whining, as she reminded herself earlier, comes straight from his father.

"Well, breakfast is on the table and daddy should be down in a few minutes to take you to pre-school, so why don't you eat up and then you can go get dressed for me, okay?"

She places him into his booster seat and scoots his chair as close to the table as it will go without squeezing him between the two, then kisses his mussed head of hair lightly and moves to the refrigerator.

"What do you want to drink today, baby? Juice?"

He shakes his head in protest, mouth full of bacon, but tries to speak nonetheless.

"Chew first, please. No talking with food in your mouth, I thought daddy told you just last night that it's not nice, didn't he?"

The little boy, looking exactly like his father but with his mother's lips and nose, swallows the contents of his mouth before responding.

"Yes, mommy. Can I have milk, please?"

"Yes you can, and thank you for asking nicely, sweetheart."

She pours him the milk and sets the sippy-cup on the table beside his plate, returning to the counter to pour John a cup of coffee at the exact moment that he makes an entrance from upstairs. Moving to the table, he leans down to kiss his son on the head and ask if he's ready for another day at school. An enthusiastic response brings a smile to Carter's face, and he turns to walk toward his wife. He meets her at the counter and takes the mug of coffee from her hands, kissing her deeply in gratitude for all that she does for them.

"Eeew! Daddy!"

Abby laughs against his lips before pulling away and making a face at her son, who giggles in response. Carter takes a sip of his coffee and walks to the table, taking his place beside the boy.

"Sorry, Sport, but I told you already - mommies don't _have_ cooties. They're different that _other_ girls, right?"

"John!" she squeals in protest, but is laughing nonetheless.

His only response is to smile and wink in her direction before turning his attention back to the morning's meal.

When they began dating seven years ago, did he ever really picture this scenario in their future? Sure, he had hoped for it. But he was never truly positive that it would happen. It had taken him two whole years just to conjure up the nerve to kiss her. And even then, he was never sure she would reciprocate. When she did, he was never sure that they would be able to overcome all of the obstacles and create a lasting foundation for their love. So it only felt natural to fear that his deepest desires for his relationship with Abby would never actually come full-circle. But here he is, sitting in his kitchen with his son across from him and his wife of five years stopping to press a kiss to his cheek as she passes by toward her own seat at the table.

Sometimes everything _does_ work out like you planned.

You just have to refuse to let go.

He watches as the young boy leaps up from the table and scampers back up the stairs, returning only minutes later in a new outfit with his hair neatly combed. He grabs a small backpack from beside the couch and runs back to his father's side, jumping up and down impatiently as he waits for Carter to finish his meal and take him to school. Instead, however, he finds himself being chased around the living room by a father who is suddenly overwhelmed with his inner-child and the urge to play tag. Several moments of running and tickling ensue before the laughter overwhelms the household, and all is put to a stop by Abby as she begs for them to keep the noise to a minimum. Carter looks toward the staircase and nods in understanding of her request. He lifts his son from the couch, placing him steadily on his feet and then sending him over to kiss his mother goodbye.

As the toddler finishes lavishing Abby with kisses, he makes his way to the garage door and waits silently as Carter takes over where the young boy left off. Kissing Abby gently, he places one hand on her waist and the other against her cheek. They savor the moment, knowing that it will be the last of it's kind until after the sun has set. He begins to pull away, but she has grasped his hand with her own and demands his attention for at least one more moment.

"You'll be home by ten, right?" she whispers lightly, her eyes sparkling with hope.

He nods in reply, smiling lightly and lifting her hand to his lips. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Susan's going to pick him up from pre-school today and she'll bring him over tonight before we leave."

"Okay. Have a good day." And she kisses him again, quicker this time but not lacking any passion. "I love you."

He winks and moves toward the door where their son is waiting, his patience fading. "I love you, too. Happy Anniversary, baby."

She smiles an incredible smile, watching as the two men in her life exit into the garage and make their way out into the world for another day of work…and play. Grabbing the plates and glasses from the table, she moves back toward the kitchen sink and resumes the daily grind of household chores. With she and Carter leaving for the weekend, she needs to vacuum, mop, dust, grocery shop and pack before he returns later this evening. And, taking a glance at the staircase, she assumes she can get at least half of that accomplished before the most important adventure of her daily routine begins.

The hours pass in a generally normal fashion, and he sees the typical amount of patients, glad that the traumas seem to be at a minimum for the day. It gives him a chance to escape into the lounge and finish up the paperwork that needs to be cleared before Monday. Paperwork that has to be cleared _today_, since he won't be around to finish it this weekend. And there's no way in hell he's taking it with them on this vacation.

He hopes that she'll be pleased with the destination he's chosen. A weekend is all they're taking, since he's needed at the hospital and she doesn't want to be away too long. But still, he made a few phone calls and managed to reserve them the honeymoon penthouse at the most luxurious resort in all of the Bahamas. She has no idea where they're headed. Except that it requires her to pack a bathing suit. His mind is flitting with thoughts of the weekend to come and the incredible experiences that they will share together. The memories that they will make, only adding them to a book of memories that is growing larger with every passing day.

He thinks back to when this all began, and he still can't believe that they had almost - or could have almost - lost one another in his selfish attempt to prove his own worth in life by running off to the jungle. In hindsight, however, he wouldn't change a single moment of their relationship. Every step they've taken - every minute that has passed - has brought them to where they are today. And there's no place else he would rather be. Life has a crazy way of making everything turn out exactly as it should in the end, even when you spend far too long believing that you'll never see the light at the end of that proverbial tunnel.

Back at home, she sits on the couch after dinner and flips through a magazine, soaking up the latest information on parenting and how to raise a well-mannered and well-behaved child. She never imagined she would be a mother at all, much less a mother who seeks out the advice of know-it-all doctors in books and magazines. But since the birth of her son, she's never felt so committed to a cause - that child changed her life completely. Her life with Carter. And she wants nothing more than to raise her children in a fashion that will hopefully protect them from all of the anguish and pain that their parents suffered at such young ages.

She stays in her position on the couch for another hour or so before noticing the time and letting her mind recall what was left upstairs and what has yet to be accomplished. Placing the magazine back on the coffee table, she makes her way toward the stairs and up to their bedroom where she takes care of a few more chores and finally begins to pack for the weekend.

Neither of them can believe how lucky they are. Both of them, so stubborn and prideful - it's a miracle that they stand where they do today. Any other couple would have fallen to pieces by now, unable to accept responsibility for pain caused or to take charge in resolving an issue that was creating an unnecessary distance between them. Carter and Abby, however - they persevered. Too much time had been wasted in their first two years as friends. They spent too much time being careful and afraid during their first year as a couple. And his journey to the Congo had given them both a reality check. The time had come to step forward and be adults about their relationship. Agree to make it stick - forever - or simply give it up completely. The in-between and ping-pong game of emotions wasn't going to cut it any longer.

And so the decision was made.

And they chose to survive.

Together.

No better choice has ever been made. Well, aside from the choice to have their son. She was, at first, clearly uncomfortable and worried at the prospect of a child. Despite all the times that she had told them both how ready she was, she could not have predicted the fear that overwhelmed her when the test came back positive that day almost four years ago. But she took a step back and looked out upon the situation, and - with him there to hold her and assure her - she became convinced once again that she couldn't live without this child growing inside of her.

And months later, their son was born. Both were amazed at the ability to love someone so much, when they had thought all the love they had was already given away to one another. Yet, everyday their love grows more and more. Petty arguments come and go, disagreements and shouting matches and nights spent on the couch are something that he has grown accustomed to and has been reassured is simply the ebb and flow of marriage. But nothing has ever hindered their love. This is a love that was meant to be, and will always be if they have any say in it.

It's these exact thoughts that fill his head as he pulls up into the driveway just after 10:00 pm to find Susan stepping out of the driver's seat of her own car and moving around to the back to lift the sleeping Carter heir from his booster seat. She waves in John's direction as he puts the car in park and steps out to meet her, taking his son into his arms and walking with Susan into the house. He tells her to make herself comfortable, as usual, and that he and Abby will be down shortly.

Walking up the stairs, he undresses the young boy and places him into his pajamas before sliding him underneath the comforter. He stares momentarily at the miracle before him, reveling in the joy that he receives from knowing that this is the result of the love that he and Abby share. Brushing the hair away from the boys face, Carter leans down to kiss him lightly and then turns to walk out, shutting off the light and leaving the door open just a crack. He makes his way farther down the hall and stops at the door adjacent to the master bedroom, leaning against the frame and grinning happily as he watches the sight before him.

Abby sits, her back to him, in the darkened room and rocking slowly in the moonlight from the window. He can hear her humming lightly as she stares at the bundle in her arms, and he's amazed at how much more he loves her now than he did just moments before. Apparently, his ability to love her will never stop growing. He closes his eyes in a silent prayer, thanking whoever is responsible for giving him this life and love.

Eternally grateful doesn't even begin to describe it.

Moving into the room, he steps up behind her and leaves a kiss upon the top of her head. This catches her attention immediately, and she looks up to him with a smile.

"Susan's here," he whispers as he moves to kneel beside her, laying a hand gently on top of the tiny head in her lap. She nods in response and readjusts the bottle in her hand.

"Is he - ?" and it's Carter's turn to nod.

"He's sleeping, yeah. He was asleep when they got here."

At this, she carefully stands and he joins her. She leans in, kissing him softly on the lips before biting her own lip and staring into his eyes.

"They'll be okay without us?"

He knows she's worried, and he finds it adorable.

"They'll be fine, babe. I promise. What better babysitter than Susan, right? It's a godmother's favorite activity, and you know how much Susan loves watching them. Stop worrying, okay? We're going to have ourselves a quiet, relaxing weekend."

With that, he places his hands upon her elbows and leans his forehead against hers. She smiles in return and nods slightly, acknowledging that she knows he's right. She sighs a little before looking down at the baby and then back up at her husband.

"Will you take her, finish her feeding so I can go tuck him in and say goodbye?"

Smiling with understanding, he nods and lifts the tiny child from her arms. She exits and makes her way down the hall to check on their son once more before leaving town. As she goes, he sits himself in the rocker and places the bottle back into his daughter's tiny mouth.

His daughter.

Their daughter.

First a son, and now a daughter. Life is truly complete for them, and he couldn't ask for anything more. Six months have passed since her snowy February birth, but he remembers it as if it happened just hours before. His precious angel. The face of an angel, for she looks exactly like her mother. The same large and curious eyes, the cute little nose, the beautiful deep brown hair, and those precious pouty lips. Everything about her is Abby, and he couldn't be happier. He had thought his life was perfect when it was just the three of them, but when Abby found out she was pregnant again…well, there were no words for the emotions that ran through the both of them at that time. So much love. So much joy. And when it turned out to be a girl, it was as if full-circle had finally arrived. The perfect ending that he once assumed would never be reached, was here. And the miracle that fulfilled the circle of their family was now sleeping soundly in his arms.

As he stands and moves toward her crib, he notices Abby re-enter out of the corner of his eye. He turns in her direction and smiles, mouthing that she's finally asleep. Abby moves closer, placing herself directly beside him and rubs her hand softly over the curly brown locks on her daughter's head. She kisses her gently on the forehead before taking one of her tiny hands between her own fingers and caressing the baby-soft skin with a look of wonder on her face. It's moments like these that she and Carter cherish most. Moments when, standing in silence, they can gaze at the beauty that they've created by simply loving one another. How utterly amazing it is to think of all that they have together. All that they could have missed if they hadn't chosen to carry on and battle all the forces against them.

Following in his wife's previous movements, he kisses their daughter as well and then hands her back to Abby, who places her gently in the crib. They both remain, staring down at their darling daughter for another minute or so before he takes her hand and she nods in response of his unspoken request. It's time to go.

They walk down the hall and gather their bags from the bedroom, clasping hands once again as they walk toward the staircase. Passing family photographs along the way, they both find themselves once again caught up in the memories of the past seven to ten years. Not all of those years spent as a couple, but still - all of those years spent together in some form or another.

And as they give Susan a few last-minute reminders about the kids, they find themselves gripping each other's hands even tighter. Walking out the door and into the driveway, they glance at each other, and their ability to communicate silently is as strong as ever. They both know that this is where they're meant to be.

This is where the journey of life has taken them.

Together.

Married.

With two beautiful children.

And there is nothing that could ever make them doubt their choices. This is right. This is how it was supposed to end. All of the hardships, the pain, the struggles and the insecurities - it was all to bring them to this very moment.

Celebrating a life together.

They're sure that they have more struggles and difficulties ahead of them. Surely there will be plenty more nights of arguing and screaming in the years to come. Clearly, there are tears to be shed and painful words to be shouted. And they both know that the time will come, if not more than once, when at least one of them will want to back out of their deal - to walk away from it all and simply give up.

But what's more, they know that their love will prevail. No relationship is without it's faults. No couple is without it's fights. They know these moments will come, and they are not worried in the least. For they also know that what they have is too precious - too hard-earned - to simply give up on. And right now, it's that fact alone that they wish to concentrate on. They've created a life together, and with that have created two more precious lives. 

Their dreams are now a reality, and they can't help but smile as they climb into the car and pull out onto the suburban Chicago street. Reaching a stop sign, he takes her hand in his and pulls her toward him for a kiss. She smiles in response, whispering an inquiry as to what she did to deserve that.

"I love you," he replies. "You know I'll always love you, right?"

This brings a smile to her face that reaches ear to ear and she moves her hand to caress his face before biting her lip and closing her eyes softly.

"I know," she murmurs into the silence. "I love you too, babe. No matter what."

And as they pull off into the night, their thoughts wander back to all that they have to look forward to.

The truth is, no matter what happens, they can't wait to experience it. Good or bad, joyful or tearful, cloudy or bright - they'll go through it together.

But exactly what the future holds in store for them, only time will tell.

And therein lies the adventure.

======================================

-- End --

======================================

AN: Oh-Kay. So, there it is. I'm not sure if it managed to sum up the whole of the series for you, or if it even managed to meet the standards of what you were all hoping for. I decided to write in 3rd Person format, as opposed to the usual 1st Person outlook, because I wanted the epilogue to be a sort of "outside looking in" perspective on their relationship and what has happened since the last chapter took place. Hopefully it worked out okay for all of you darling readers.

I'd like to give a major thank you and lots and lots of *cuddens* to **Kate**, who Beta's every stinky and *fugly* chapter of this story. For that matter, props to **Misty** and **Julie** as well, because they always tell me what sucks and make me fix it before I upload it for the world : ) You kids are the coolest, indeed. And it's all about a Taurus…or a bar *winks*

****

Lanie, Taylor and Kenzie - Well, words can't express how much it means to me to get such good feedback from the three of you. I adore your work, and although I'm a lazy-ass who never seems to get around to leaving a review…please know that I think you are all beyond fabulous, and it is your work that inspires me to always do better. You are truly incredible writers, and knowing that you've enjoyed my work brings an smile to my face that won't disappear. Thanks so much.

****

Andrea and Cathi - Yeah. You know…it's all about the dumbfuckary…phone calls and care packages. Late night research on the 'net. Forgive me for not diving into the smut here this time - it will be accomplished. For I am free and easy…emphasis on the easy. The crazy-ass things you two throw down on paper always inspires me to…expand my horizons *nod* And there ain't nothing better than some good ol' PQ Carbita fuzz…keep it coming, McFreaks.

And to all my lovelies - **Melly**, you inspire me to write fuzz…if for no other reason than to pull you out of you stupid depressed "Carby's gonna *die*" phase : ) And I love you for it, since I think I suck at the fuzz but you make me do it anyway *cuddens* I'm'a klepto you and keep you in my pocket with Pocket!Abby and Pocket!Maura. **Ali**, m'twin! You…are my twin. I could not love you more, dude. And hurry up with DTY, because I'm getting impatient. Really, though, thanks for always being there to offer advice on my writing when I was about to have a spaz-attack over something. **Heather, Angie, Mary, Becca**, etc etc etc - you know who you are - *constant cuddens* You girls are the shit. You pick me up when I'm feeling like my writing is nothing beyond *fugly* and you reassure me about everything. And, ya know, Heather lets me klepto on IRC…*wooks* I luff joo all, major shout out to the LJ kids : ) 

Everyone at the **Carby Board** - Well, what can I say? Y'all are crazy, and it's because of you that I re-started my fanfic writing obsession in the first place. I love you all to pieces.

If anyone's interested in reading a very dark, angsty, almost rather *evil* fanfic that will _end up_ nicely fuzzily Carby…let me know. It's not written yet, but the plot is in my head and it'll turn out to be a nice long series…but lots of drama and lots of angst and…yeah, it's kind of blatantly evil at times…*shrugs* Let me know if I should bother writing it…

Anyway, thanks again for reading and for all of you support. It means the world to me.

Hope you all enjoyed the ride : )

--Aimee--


End file.
